Trouble At The Playpen.

(Lest you think I'm being dramatic, "Trouble at the Henhouse", a Tragically Hip cd, croseed my mind as I eased out of Amoryn's room at 2:47am.)

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But there was drama, never fear. I awoke to hear Amoryn fussing, & waited to see if she was going to soother herself back to sleep, which is what usually happens. Nope. Fussing gave way to crying. I even gave it an extra second, because the man is in Fort sMac. That means I have to go out into the cold dark world & there's no warm hot water bottle of a man waiting in bed. Anyways. As I'm pulling on my housecoat, I hear Amoryn's cry turn to a different tone, a downright scream.

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"What on earth?", thinks I.

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Well. Amoryn sleeps with a small menagerie of stuffies, there's a caterpillar, her bear (THE bear, as opposed to a bear), a singing bunny, a grey cat, & another bear (pink one, as opposed to pink two). The bunny looks like he's holding a star, & his arms are attached to each other, forming a smallish loop.

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Amoryn had stuck one of her arms through the loop of the singing bunny somehow, and as I came into her room, was screaming at the absolute top of her lungs whilst flailing her arms about & clubbing herself in the face with rabbit, which just made it all worse.

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It's ok that I've been laughing about it all day, because I didn't laugh at her then. I just extricated the bunny, soothed her, picked her up, dropped the bunny in the laundry (bad bunny! washing machine for you!), changed her bum, soothed her some more, and put her back to bed.

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Then I laid in my bed, and listened to her talk the whole experience over with the bear. She went to sleep after 40 minutes. So I guess I'm also laughing because I'm a little sleep-deprived & sort of punch drunk. Heh.