I was being robbed by Chucky (insert scream)

July 03, 2017

MY ELDEST daughter Ayla is like the Energizer bunny — on steroids.
She just goes and goes and goes.
If I had a quarter of her energy, I’d be doing well.
Incredibly, when 7pm comes around, she seems to kick into another gear and her brain goes into hyperdrive.
Which makes bedtime a nightmare.
For her, that’s the time she wants to talk about anything and everything.
Questions range from anything like what funny things I did as a kid, accidents and injuries I’ve had (the bloodier the better), what she was like as a baby, what injuries she suffered — as well as every other member of my family — to ‘will my toe fall off if it gets infected?’ and ‘how did Michael Jackson die?’ to the more intense, such as ‘why are we here?’ and ‘where do we go when we die?’.
And while I love and encourage her curiosity, it’s bloody exhausting.
And now it’s frickin 9pm!!
I guess that’s why her battery is always dead in the morning.
And takes a long, long while to warm up.
My girl is not a morning person. It’s a family failing.
And it is almost impossible to wake her and get her out of bed on any morning (Christmas and Easter Sunday excepted).
‘‘Just five more minutes,’’ she pleads.
‘‘My eyes can’t open yet,’’ she complains.
I literally have to drag her out of bed and even that’s only possible if there’s a bowl of hot porridge waiting for her.
That is why the other morning, after I had a shower and went into the kitchen to make breakfast, I screamed in terror and jumped about a metre in the air when I saw a small figure standing in the lounge room.
You see no-one ever gets up before me in the morning.
Not ever (Christmas and Easter Sunday excepted).
‘‘Oh good God, I’m being robbed by a midget burglar!’’ flashed through my panicked mind.
‘‘Good morning Mum,’’ Ayla said.
There she was — with her school uniform and shoes on (the right feet) and hair done — just standing there with a coy smile on her face.
And my breakfast made (well, Sultana Bran anyway).
Welcome to the twilight zone.
‘‘I’m sorry I scared you Mum, but I’m trying to be a morning person,’’ she told me sweetly.
Bless your heart Ayla but I’m pretty sure this will be a one-off.
It hasn’t happened since, but she has been on holidays, so I am not giving up hope just yet.
Maybe once school resumes.
Or hell freezes over.

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