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True Halloween Nightmare

 
It’s midnight and time to pay the price.

Glowing yellow eyes, blood-stained fangs, ghoulish figures in the grocery isles. Forget the sugar highs from too many chocolate bars. Here’s the real price of Halloween fun.

Day 1, 2:00am: Door opens. “Mommy, I had a bad dream...”

I take Elizabeth back to bed. I can’t get back to sleep.

Day 2, 4:30am: Door opens. “Mommy, can you come sit with me for a little while...”

I take Samantha back to bed. I can’t get back to sleep.

Day 3, 1:30am: “Wha? No...iss too early...go back to bed...” Michael is talking in his sleep.

I nudge him. I think it's kind of funny, because of the irony and all. I still can’t get back to sleep.

Day 4, 3:00am: “Mommy...?”

I whimper, then take Elizabeth and Samantha back to bed. I can’t get back to sleep. It's starting to freak me out.

Day 5, 2:30am: “It’s OK, but you have to go back to bed. No it’s still nighttime. You, too, Lizzy.” Michael is talking in his sleep. But more loudly this time. Apparently having a nightmare -- a true nightmare.

I nudge him, again. I think it's unfair, because of the irony and all. I consider my options while not sleeping: check into a hotel; call in sick; ban Halloween.

Next time I see a zombie, a vampire, Michael Myers -- even Casper the so-called friendly ghost -- I’m gonna kick some serious monster ass.

Because there’s nothing scarier than a mom without enough sleep.



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