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    Sleeping-in is a full-contact sport

    Seriously, what gives? Monday through Friday I have to extract at least one child out of bed via fork-lift. Come a holiday both are up by 6am?

    I cajole one back to sleep (let’s call it an early nap), and am willing to accept the other in bed with us while he watches Shawn the Sheep. This buys me an hour. Apparently I needed to spend that hour suiting up to play in a football game, because I proceeded to be:

    1. jumped on by child #1, because he was too excited over something Shawn did. Thank you right-leg tibia for not snapping in half after you absorbed the jumping weight of an almost 4yr old

    2. clobbered over the head with a semi-full steel Klean Kanteen bottle by child #2, because… well I don’t know why

    3. crawled over by child #2 attempting to get to child #1

    When did my bed become a WWF wrestling arena?

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