1:30 a.m. baby Raging Bull wakens us roaring for more milk. I check his poison ivy spots -- getting better.
2:00 a.m. puppy screeches from his crate downstairs: "I need to go outside! I will poop in my crate if you don't let me outside!" Once outside puppy wants to play fetch with tennis ball. Mosquitos whine and at least two follow me inside.
3:30 a.m. Raging Bull awake again, I nudge sleeping Spouse, moan, "Your turn, please..." Spouse says, "I wanted to sleep through the night." I don't remember which of us gets up. Bug bites itch.
5:30 a.m. Raging Bull awake for good now, wants milk, no--juice, wants his socks on--no, socks off--no, ON--roar, roar, roar. Inconsolable for reasons inscrutable. Does not want full diaper changed. Does not want poison ivy lesions nor bug bites anointed. Puppy shrieks from downstairs warning of flood gates about to open. Spouse awakes mercifully and takes over with Raging Bull. I go downstairs and let Puppy out, pour his meat cereal into his bowl, let him back in and he gallops to the bowl, tail wagging like a crazed windshield wiper. Puppy inhales breakfast, then pees in kitchen and dining room. I let him out with a scold. Puppy yelps to come back in, then promptly poops in dining room. I clean up canine bodily emissions while cursing purple and blue under my breath. Spouse guides Raging Bull as he toddles downstairs, dressed and sweet under Spouse's good influence. Baby takes a look at me and starts roaring again.
Argh. My coffee is cold. My bites itch.
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