As I watched Little E swing his leg up and successfully clear the side of his crib, I suppressed the urge to vomit.

It wasn't for fear that Little E would injure himself attempting to escape his jail, I mean crib.

It was a premonition.

I will soon have two zombie children trolling around my house at all hours of the night asking for sh*t like cookies, their leap pads, or to be tucked in.

My sleep.  My precious sleep, already tempered by the inability to hold my bladder longer than four hours, a snoring elderly poodle, and the occasional Big E pop-in, will now be subject to another line of assault.

I need to hire either a night nurse or a security guard to man the hallway in between our bedrooms.

Mrs. Yoy NEEDS her sleep!


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