Thursday, August 13, 2009

Seven


Things are going pretty well with Elijah and his sleep coffin. After we bed him down, he rarely attempts to escape. On occasion, we’ll hear his door creak open and then immediately slam shut as if he is too spooked to head downstairs. It could be because I told him our living room floor turns into hot lava after 8pm.

The morning is a different story. He’s a bit of an early bird and there is nothing to keep him from entering our room and shouting “Watch Curious George?” at dark o’clock.

So Diana devised an ingenious plan. She taught him to tell time. Each night when he goes to bed, Di positions his digital clock at the edge of his dresser and says, “Don’t leave your room until the clock says 7. Seven. Not Six.” Eli usually nods and the gears in his head mesh and rotate.

But he keeps coming into our room right around 6:50. Diana gently, but firmly reminds him our rule about 7am.

Eli responds with, “Seven. On the clock. Curious George?”

I think it’s a bit much to expect a 2 and a half year old to tell time. I distinctly remember failing the time telling chapter in Mrs. Brown’s second grade class. So I usually let him off the hook and take him downstairs.

This morning I got up early to ride my bike to work. As I enjoyed my bagel and my spandex-ed reflection in the mirror, I heard Eli shout from his room, “Yay! Seven!” and then run across the hall to a sleeping Diana.

As I heard Diana attempt yet again to remind him about our rule, I looked at the clock.

6:47.

I had to admit there was a seven on the clock. So technically it was seven o'clock. In the Bizarro universe.

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