W/E 22nd October 2016 Post 071
AWAKE ALL NIGHT IN THE NAME OF RESEARCH
Hi, Ewan here. Tuesday, again, already. Grandad and Mamma day.
I had a brilliant plan today.
I want to explore the dark at night. It’s scary and I like that. I like the feeling it gives me. But every time I am put to bed in the dark I fall asleep and can’t experience it to the full.
This morning I woke up at 3.45am. I thought 3.45 was tea time in an afternoon. But I realised this was clearly in the middle of the night. So in the crazy adult world they have two 3.45’s, one in an afternoon you can enjoy. Then there is a second one in the night, which doesn’t matter if its duplicated because no one sees it, they are fast asleep.
Sometimes people have to stay up all night. Like my uncle Colin. Also, like the Tesco Online delivery man. If a baby wakes up in the night and wants a choc-choc bear and his mum goes to the cupboard and there is none, she goes straight to Tesco online, on the tablet and orders some and the Tesco man beings them straight round. That Tesco man needs to know which 3.45 it is. So the grown ups invented a new clock for that situation.
Instead of having two 3.45’s they have one and change the afternoon one to 15.45. Why they don’t use that all the time I do not know but grownups are very complexed, mixed up individuals.
Anyway its 3.45. It’s Tuesday, a laid back day of leisure. It’s pitch black, coal black (to quote Dylan Thomas) dark in my bedroom. I can’t see a thing. I am so excited that I am awake in the dark. The dark is there for me to explore. I can’t contain myself so I start jumping in my cot.
I need to let the ghosts, witches, monsters and bats see that I’m active and if they come near me I can look after myself by splatting them.
The problem is the noise of me jumping wakes my mum. She immediately thinks I am being sick or I am coming down with bubonic plague picked up from eating an out of date cream cracker.
She tries to get me to sleep, sleep again. But my objective is to explore and discover ‘dark’. The day is pitch perfwct for such an activity. I must understand Dark. After all I am 20 months old! Has she never read ‘The Owl Who Was Afraid of the Dark’. Me and grandad have read it100’s, no, trillions of times,
Then you realise things are getting serious because Dad gets involved. Dad only gets involved when as parents they mean what they say.
But I know I must to explore the dark, today. I know I’m on grandad watch. But I also know if I fall asleep grandad can’t resist falling a sleep too.
My dad puts me on his chest. Normally that is so comfortable and reassuring I fall to sleep immediately, but I want to explore the dark. I want to be in the midst of it and concentrate and concentrate and think of the most scariest things I have ever thought of. To stare into the scary darkness until Itoo scared to look any more and I scream and bury my head in dad’s chest. That would be brilliant.
I think I can see a lion in the darkness over there, it is coming to get me. Yikes!
Look at that huge rectangle in the corner of my room, it’s a ghost and it has come alive It is as tall as from floor to ceiling and has a huge mouth to swallow me whole. It is coming towards me. Millions of goose pimples (or ghost pimples) form on my arm. Oh no! It’s my wardrobe. Dark is so brilliant. Dark is fantastic. Dark is amazing. Dark is so, so exciting.
There is a giant squeak. It must be the Big Bad Mouse coming to get me, now. No, its not, its dad taking me to their bed. I lie with them, but still I explore the dark and describe for them with rich descriptive language all the things I can see. But for some reason they do not seem impressed or even happy with me. They’ve got their nasty miserable heads on. They are the most scariest things in the dark.
Anyway it is 6 o’clock (another o’ clock you strangely get two of in a day) Mum and dad’s alarm goes off in 10 minutes to tell them to get ready for work. I am going to sleep they will be in horrendous moods. I bet they are all stressed out because they have to go to work. Why bother going and spending all day there if you don’t like it? Just don’t go. Grown ups do the most stupidest of things.
I wake up. The darkness is gone. But a spooky figure lurkes over me in the doorway. The piercing eyes stare at me and long bomy fingers pick me up and hugs me. Yes! Its mamma with a bot-bot. Its 10.15 (I think there is only one of those in a day ) and I feel superbly refreshed and lively with loads of energy to look after grandad for the day. And I know what the deepest, darkest, black as coal , smooth as velvet scarriest part of the night is all about, now.
When I was a lad at school around 13 years old, our Maths teacher used to call me Wol. At the end of the year as we were moving up a class I plucked up courage to ask why he called me Wol. He told meit was thename of the deslexic owl in Winnie the Pooh. With my Harry Potter glasses he said I looked like the Wise Old Owl in the Winnie the Pooh stories.
Being the vain person I am I took it as a compliment
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