Scrunch

On my feet all day, and it was a day of missteps and snags. Good people to work with, but systems snarled. We corrected everything, all turned out well, even got home before anticipated. But it took a lot of running, and other rooms had similar experiences.

Came out to the evidence of a recent rainstorm that I MISSEDAMNIT. Then found out the front rainbarrel was not full, but missed the downspout outpouring through misdirected flow. And an antnest swarmed as I jostled it. I’ll work on sorting that out before the next rain event.

Fellow nurse had a bruised and scratched cheek. I asked, “Your daughter?” Yup, three years old and not well regulated, high energy child. She saw the humor, and is doing what she can to deal with the intensity of her child.

Reminded me of the time my mother was angry with me one morning, because apparently I punched her the night before. She’d moved me up from the foot of the bed, and I clocked her. Which solved a mystery for me, because I very intentionally scrunched down at the bottom of the bed because I was cold, and that helped. In the morning, I’d be back up and the top, and cold. I had no idea how that happened until then. I was rather angry myself at that point, and glad she was hurt for this unnecessary and unhelpful ‘correction” of my sleeping position. If she’d asked me why I slept at the foot of the bed, I’d have told her. Still don’t know why it was so damn important that I sleep at the head of the bed.

I don’t honestly remember what happened after, although I’m sure I kept doing it, because I was cold and it helped. I like to think she left me there after that. I also don’t remember if I ever did tell her why I scrunched, because she was so angry with me, and expected an apology for something I didn’t intend, or remember, since I was asleep at the time. I’m sure I apologized, because I knew better than not to. Still, it rankles.

Let sleeping children lie.