...after you have put them to bed, and you're exhausted because they were up the previous night throwing up or losing stuffed animals or falling apart because their blankets were askew, and they look at you and moan, "I'm still hungry" or "I need a drink" and you quickly—urgently! expediently!—shuffle them back upstairs and plop them down—urgently! expediently! before they can make any new requests!—and kiss them again and tell them GOOD NIGHT again, and you close the door and quietly, gingerly, tiptoe away and collapse onto the couch...
When those things happen, I am reminded of horror movies. You know the scenes: the good guy has just shot/stabbed/weed whacked the bad guy and the good guy takes one last trepidatious walk around the body, hoping—praying—he's finally in the clear and
WHAM! The bad guy leaps up and grabs the good guy's ankle and attempts to get him just ONE LAST TIME—"I'm still hungry"—and the good guy grasps at whatever he can—'Too bad, you should have eaten more dinner!"—to impale the bad guy just ONE LAST TIME, JUST PLEASE LET THIS TIME BE IT.
Personally, the final scene of "Sleeping with the Enemy" always comes to mind (perhaps because it takes place at the bottom of the stairwell) but really, you can custom-fit this little mental game to any of your favorite slasher films.
Special, huh? This post is so going in the kids' baby books.
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.