It's amazing that, during the week, I could practically enlist the use of sirens along with a big pot and wooden spoon to try and drag my child out of bed and it would still be a fight. The weekend is a different story, and this past one was no exception:
Sunday morning, before the sun had even come up, I felt the presence of my son and the dog in my bedroom. He was watching cartoons and talking to the dog as I dozed in and out of consciousness. At one point I remember thinking there was an awfully cold spot in the bed near my knee. Oh, never mind. I turned over and snuggled with the pillows some more... There it is again, that coldness. Something making a noise like crinkling plastic... Finally I sat up to investigate. I peeled back the covers, then called to my son...
"Yeah, Mom?"
"Uh... why is there broccoli in my bed?"
"Because my leg hurt."
"Do what?"
"Because my leg hurt."
"And you thought broccoli would fix it?"
"No. I was using it for an ice pack."
You can't make this stuff up.
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