Mama! Papa!

Monday night after all the stories and all the good night kisses, after turning on the fan and “Monkey, ” after making sure Little Man has leopard (his lovey), after Wifey and I have left the room so that Little Man can go to sleep, I hear “Mama… Papa… Come here.” I ignore it because, well I am killing Defias Highwaymen and harvest reapers in Westfall trying to get my hunter up to 20 so I can dual wield… ummm… I just went into a bit more detail than I should have about my WoW addiction, didn’t I? Let’s try again.

I ignore it because I am playing my online game and really, he has already had kisses, he has leopard, and Jack Johnson is serenading him already. Yep, that was much better. My toon is a little over halfway to level 20, and if I just grind out the exp for a bit I can hit level 20 in about 30 minutes. I probably just crossed the “Too Much Info” line again, didn’t I?

Little Man’s cries for attention get more insistent. “Mama! Papa! Come here!” Wifey is down stairs reading. Each of us have our own way of stress relief. Wifey’s typically involves a historical fiction book and tuning me out, and mine revolves around (as we refer to it in the house) The Game. So Wifey is absorbed in her book (she gets on to me for not being able to have a conversation with her while the TV is on, but sometimes when she is ready something she really likes, I have to physically touch her to get her attention. It is cute.) and I am ignoring Little Man’s more insistent cries for attention. Mama! Papa! COME here!

Anyway… I am about to level up when Little Man really turns on the volume. He starts shouting MAMA! PAPA! COME HERE! NOW! WHY WON’T MAMA, PAPA, COME HERE NOW?!?! MAMA, PAPA, MAMA, PAPA, COME HERE NOW! I finally hit the goal of 20 and start the process of shutting down The Game, when Little Man starts really laying into it. MAMA! PAPA! MAMA! PAPA! COME HERE NOW! with the implicit meaning of If mama and papa don’t come here right now he will die the death only brought about by rabid wolves or snakes. Ah, the joys of parenthood. Before I head downstairs, and to quell the insistent rugrat, I go in and see what he is yelling about.

What is going on Little Man?
Come here NOW!
What’s the matter?
Goodnight, Papa.
What?! You just wanted me to come in here so you can say ‘goodnight’ again?
Good. Night. I start to leave…
Kisses! I kiss him on the forehead and start to leave...
Leopard kisses! I kiss leopard on the forehead and… I’m think I am actually going to make it out of the door this time
Good. Night.
Goodnight to you too, you insufferable little scamp. And with that I am finally allowed to go downstairs to help get his bags ready for pre-school.

On a side note I also just posted this on the Drawing Board. It feels good to get my drawing chops back up to speed. They aren’t where they were in college, but what about me is?

To recap:
My hand cramped whilst drawing Mr Freeze
My right shoulder is really starting to hurt I don’t know why
Often Little Man wants us to bring him some water in a paper cup
He is a demanding little cuss
My public gets nasty, uh, I mean antsy when I wait to post until after 2pm
Shut it, coworkers!
I am slowly coming up with Christmas gifts – not good ones, but gifts
Zane’s preschool Christmas program is tomorrow.
He’s supposed to sing “Jingle Bells” and “Rudolph”
Chances of him actually singing are slim to none
Maybe in the car on Saturday we might get some Jingle Bells
He will be wearing a button down and khakis
Oh, there will be many a picture taken