Alien Abduction

A while ago, I read that psychologists think those weirdo alien abduction stories are actually repressed memories from when you are an infant. Apparently, babies’ eyesight ain’t so good right after they’re born, so when they see their moms and dads peering into their crib they look like grey blobs with big eyes and little slits of a mouth. What does this have to do with Elijah? Be patient. Sheesh. You kids and your lack of attention. I blame MTV.

Anyhoo, we’ve moved Eli back into his crib. We just couldn’t keep him in his coffin closet during the day for naps. And, if you remember from 6th grade math:

(Elijah + No Nap) = Halije

So, we needed to contain the boy. Back to the crib for him. But we were faced with another hurdle. Namely, Eli can leap over his crib railing like a hurdle.

Unfortunately, this meant dropping $100 on a crib tent. What’s a crib tent, you ask? It’s a tent that fits over the top of his crib. It actually creepily looks like a mesh oxygen tent.

Thankfully, Eli loves it. And he has been sleeping much better and we seem to have banished Halije back to The Land of Screaming Two Year Olds.

The other night, I came to bed and Diana said, “Let’s go look at our boy.” It seems every night before she goes to sleep, Diana enters Eli’s room carrying a Star Trek flash light she got from a cereal box.

Well…it’s hard to call it a “flash light.” It’s a piece of plastic shaped in a kind of “U.” I think it’s the symbol for Star Trek (I’m a Star Wars nerd, not a Star Trek nerd). But when you press a button, a red light shoots out. I think it is for killing Klingons. But Diana uses it for seeing our beautiful son’s face in the dark.

Diana says that occasionally, she’ll shoot him in the face with the red light and his eyes will be open, but he doesn’t acknowledge her. Which brings me back to paragraph #1. I think he thinks he’s about to be abducted by aliens and is paralyzed by fear.

Let’s see, one minute you are asleep dreaming about sharing a banana with Curious George, the next minute you're awake, in a creepy oxygen tent, with that alien you remember from when you were two weeks old shooting you in the face with her laser.

Yep, paralyzed by fear.

Incidentally, I had to look up the spelling of “Klingon” on the internet. I stumbled across the official Klingon language institute homepage. They have a handy phrase section.

“nuqDaq 'oH puchpa''e’” means, “Where is the bathroom?”