I wake up very early. Back before my knees went bad, I used that early time to walk for exercise. And I mean WALK! I walked four miles a day, every day. Eventually, my knees went bad and I kept getting up early. I figured that I'd eventually get back out there and walk again. Well, in March (2009), I had total knee replacement on my left knee. In the hospital, my whole sleep schedule was completely out of whack. I spent two weeks in the hospital (worry not, future knee-replacement patients, I was "in the hospital" because the rehab therapy place was in the hospital) and then two weeks in my parents' fully handicapped-accessible home. That was a long month for everyone, especially the Disabled Guy because he found out just how much stuff I actually do around the house.
But this isn't supposed to be about me. I just wanted to explain why my sleep cycle is messed up. Nowadays, I'm doing much better in the whole knee recovery thing, but I'm still not walking (especially not now on the icy pavement). I still get up early, but now, around 5 AM, I go back to bed. The doctors all keep saying, "Sleep when you're tired." Well, I'd sleep all the time then, wouldn't I?
Back to the topic at hand.
The other morning, I went back to bed to find the Disabled Guy wrapped up like a burrito in the sheepskin blanket (that's only for him, it is HIS blanket), the bed sheet, and the soft fleece bedspread. The big down comforter was wadded up in a ball on my side of the bed. As I was straightening it out so I could use it, DG woke up and looked over at me.
I asked: "What's all this?"
He looked at the comforter in the near-dark. "What?"
Me: "This. Why is the comforter all balled up on my side of the bed?"
Him: "Oh. It attacked me. I had to kill it."
Me: "The comforter attacked you."
Him: "It did."
I motioned to the blanket burrito he was wrapped in. "What about those?"
He glanced down and then closed his eyes. "They won't hurt me. I scared them when I killed the comforter. They done learnt their lesson."
And, for your entertainment...
Every year, we ask him what he wants for Christmas and every year, he says: "Don't get me nothing."
So, I go one of two ways. I either go practical and get him tools or clothes. Or I go joke-y and sarcastic. Like this year. I got him a Snuggie (which he likes and you've seen a photo of) and a petri dish full of brain cells. Seriously.
There's a website called ~Giant Microbes~ and they sell plush versions of various cells and germs and such. I originally wanted to get the petri dish of three brain cells and one large red blood cell. Then I was going to cram the blood cell into the petri dish with the brain cell... get it? Yeah, I thought it was funny. The kids thought it was mean and talked me out of the blood cell. He asked me: "Are these replacements for the ones that are damaged or are these in memory of them?"
The kids have taken turns tormenting him by shaking the plastic, over-sized petri dish with the three plush brain cells inside. He yells out, "Stop playing with my brain!" or "Oh, that hurts!" Sometimes, the kid in question yells: "Concussion!" and shakes it violently.
You're right in assuming we're a pretty warped family.
So, I took some pictures of DG with his new brain cells. Enjoy.
The brain cell is 1,000,000x magnified (according to the petri dish information).
"OH! I'm losin' my mind!" he blurted when I put the brain cells on his head. (Incidentally, I've been asked if he looks like he's had a stroke. On the outside, the only real way you can see it is that his right eye doesn't open as wide as his left. And this picture really shows the difference. But he doesn't always look like that. Obviously he's playing it up for the camera).
And here we have: "Arrrrgggh! It hurts so much!"
So, as you can see... he's nothing if not a good sport!