My youngest will be having an early birthday party today. Her actual birthday falls on a school day this year. She is turning 8. She is having a friend sleepover, she’s all excited about the cake and the friends coming, last night she and her friend Christine didn’t sleep till 11 pm. I promised her that like every year, she will have breakfast in bed this morning. That news made her more excited, if that is even possible.
I was preparing for the party till late last night and finally went to bed at 1.45 am. I was in an exhausted REM place when I got woken up by a very excitable Monya, dragging her dazed-eyed friend and the dog to my room and announcing: “I’M READY FOR BREAKFAST IN BED!!!”. I attempted to get out of bed when I noticed that it was still dark outside. I checked my phone, it was 2.15 am. I was tongue-tied for a second, then gained my voice and asked the jumping bean of a kid to take her friend back to her room and go to sleep, as it was not morning yet. Disappointment on her face, she shuffled out with her sorry entourage in tow.
“MOM! I’M READY FOR BREAKFAST IN BED.”
“MONYAAA!!! IT’S 3.35!! GO BACK TO BED!”
4.40. “…BREAKFAST IN BED…”
“AHHHH! BACK TO BED!!”
5 something. “….MOM!! WAKE UP!!!”
“NO, NOT YET. BACK TO BED.” I felt bad for her friend, rubbing her eyes and looking all dazed. The dog was so happy with the hoopla in the middle of the night, expecting some food to be dropped by the sleepy agitated people around him.”
6ish. “MOM!! ….FAST … BED” drowned by the early morning Azan call to prayer from the nearby mosque. I thought I was having an embolism. What the heck was the emergency number for Dubai? I need to dial it before I pass out! I fumble for my phone. Twix, the demented dog is looking at me, then barking to add to the cacophony of sounds all around. I start harbouring homicidal thoughts featuring a canine.
Monya: “Okay, I will be back at 7”.
The delegation leaves. I have what felt like five minutes of peace when the shouts of Bed and breakfast echoed again at 7.
I now know what it must feel to be sucked into a Dennis the Menace comic and being the hapless mom on these black and white pages.
Now both my eyes are twitching uncontrollably. Excuse me while I go stock up on headache tablets.
Yeah, and Happy friggin’ Valentine’s Day.