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The Beds Not for the Dogs



April 12, 2012

What a night of no rest.

Both boys were asleep by 10 PM; they were passed out on the couch because they were so tired. I sneak both boys, one by one, into their bedroom.

I carry them with all the care of a cat burglar sneaking around the house with a sack of your belongings he just stole in the night.

Finally, I lay down. I have chills, and I don't feel well at all. I curl up under the couch's covers, watch Brewster's Millions, and fall asleep at the end.

I wake up groggy and see another movie is on, "Damn, I missed when Ms. Drake takes the $20,000.00 retainer from Montgomery Brewster, securing the 300 million his uncle left him." I think to myself.

"God, it would be great to have a rich uncle leave me cash so I can take care of my boys full-time."

With that thought, I fell back to sleep and dreamed of things that once were.

At around 1 AM, baby Christopher is crying. I lay still on the couch, waiting to see if he'll settle. Waiting, waiting, waiting, damn it. No. So I give in and get him.

I take him back to the couch, and we lie together and fall asleep. About another hour later, I wake up and feel a pressure on my chest; it's Nico. I am still determining how he got there. I don't remember him finding me during the night. I try to remain still but am so uncomfortable that I just can't. I move out and away from underneath him, sliding out slowly and deliberately so I don't wake him. I wind up stumbling to the other couch.

Ten minutes later, I'm followed by Baby Christopher and Nico. I'm so frustrated; I just want to sleep or, if anything, just rest. I get up, work my way down the hallway, stumble into Christopher's room, and grab his twin mattress from his bed. In the pitch dark, I carry the mattress down the hallway, relying on memory so I don't kick anything and toss it on the living room floor.

My Yellow Labrador, Champ, thinks it's for him and assumes command of the mattress. Lying in the dead center of the mattress.

"Hell no Champ. Move." He does not budge. "Champ, move!" 

I lay on the mattress. I finally find comfort and a little bit of peace as I stretch out. My eyes get heavy. I can feel the sleep setting in. My subconscious is the only thing left to shut down. And then I feel a thud. Startling me and waking me up.

Nico must have woken up and discovered I was gone. He made his way to my mattress and took up space beside me.

I roll on my side and claim a tiny sliver of paradise just to the right of Nico. I listen to the fan rattle as it generates wind. My eyes were heavy, and I felt calm set over me. Then, Christopher took up house right next to me, jolting me away from my rest and relaxation.

So it goes all night, musical sleeping areas. Big couch. Little couch. Mattress. I finally woke up at 8 AM on the floor next to the mattress.

The baby was on the large couch. Nico is on the little couch, and Champ is on the mattress.

It will be a long day from a night of no rest.


575 words






© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 





Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.

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