In less tranquil news, Finn fell asleep again, while I was in the middle of a comedy routine!
This was no ordinary nap though. He fell into a deep, sweaty kind of sleep and woke up refusing the world. When Ari watched the little guy she told me she would sit in the car, in the driveway while he slept. "Waking him up is rough" she tells me. So I left him in the car and I went into the house, enjoying a juice-box and the family dog, Moxie. He woke up 10 minutes later when I was loading his guitar into the backseat. We had to leave for practice in 20 minutes. Though I warned him we would be leaving soon, he shot out of the car, up the porch, and promptly fell asleep on the sofa.
This was my downfall.
If ever there was someone who understands the heart-wrenching sick feeling of being abruptly awoken from a nap for purposes other than saying home, it's me. From middle school through high school, Ari would wake me up from my afternoon nap to take her dogs for a walk. And I would curse her in my mind. Oh I'd be so mad and cranky and hot. I feel sick when I wake up from naps, yet I continue to take them. Mom would ask me why I would go with Ari if it made me so mad. Turns out my love for her is stronger than my love for spontaneous napping (though its very close). And so I would go. And I would not speak for the first few minutes until I felt better and my blood sugar leveled out again. And then I would be thrilled to walk with her. In fact, our after-school dog walks as a whole, are among my fondest memories.
Finn has not yet reached the "fester in silence" stage. I woke him up cautiously, fearful of the limp body tantrums I had laughed about on Ari and my dates at the Surf Bar. I shook the little guy awake and luckily the disorientation and confusion stage lasts longer for him than it does for me. I managed to get him into the car and buckled in before he realized what was going on. "NOOOOO!!!!!!!!" he screamed with tears rolling down his cheeks. His little face turned red and his hands were in fists. "I don't WANT to go to guitar!! I HATE guitar!!!"
"Finn you love guitar." I reminded him, as I pulled out onto the highway. I wondered if someone would pass me, look in the window, and assume I had kidnapped him. He sure doesn't look like me. Though I'd also hate for them to assume I was an unmarried bimbo. "I. Want. My. MOM!!!!!!!!!!" he shouted. He was also saying something that I couldn't quite distinguish and while it struck me to laugh, I decided that would be offensive and perhaps even sinister. Is it wrong to laugh? The poor kid thinks he's in agony and truthfully, if someone woke me up to pluck a few sweet sounding strings, I too would boycott that day.
Once we made it to the parking lot, I walked around, unbuckled him and tried to maneuver him out of the car. Just as warned, his little body went limp and he dropped to the floor of my car, his tiny body oozing down like putty and settling into a ball.
"Come on Finn we have to go. I promise, we'll go straight to Mom after." and I delicately grabbed his little wrist.
"OOUUCHH!!! YOU'RE HURTING ME!!!!!" he yelled for the whole lot to hear. After yanking him by his hips and legs while he held on to the car door, I finally scooted him into the music building and warned his teacher that he had just woken up.
When I picked him up thirty minutes later, he was talking and laughing and asking me what games I wanted to play when we got home.
I don't even blame him for all this.
I understand Finn. You go ahead and cry while you can. I wish I was allowed to cry.
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