Adrian and I awoke in a daze at ten in the evening, having passed out next to each other long before I had planned to go to sleep last night. I placed him in the pack “˜n’ play set up in my ten year old sister’s room, trying to ignore the Taylor Lautner posters all over the walls as I dressed for bed myself, then crawled into my borrowed bed, hoping that Adrian would stay asleep for the rest of the night, and hoping I’d get to sleep early enough that my internal travel clock would be righted in a single day. We both slept a little fitfully after that. I pulled Adrian up next to me a couple of times as he protested his environment loudly enough that I feared he’d wake his aunts, step-grandma, or grandpa, scattered across three levels of house and in various stage of sleep. Laying on a pillow next to me he’d drift off again, gentle snores in my ear carrying me off with him.
I placed him back in his own bed at least twice during the night, in between half-watching episodes of Mad Men streaming on CTV’s website. (Note to travelers to Canada from the U.S.: you cannot watch Netflix, Hulu, Fancast or almost any other legitimate streaming video site while you are in Canada on a Canadian ISP, but if you go to some of the Canadian television station websites you’ll find a limited selection for free streaming.) He has been fighting a cold and he would wake, frustrated at being unable to breathe properly.
At six in the morning he woke up in more of a “time for milk” way than “make all the congestion stop” way, so I tip-toed downstairs trying not to wake anyone. To my surprise, step-grandma was already awake, enjoying quiet time before the rest of the household got up. Morning people impress me, but I could never be one myself. After I brought milk up to Adrian we both passed out again and slept solidly until ten, undermining slightly our efforts to get on an east coast schedule.
We finally did get up and then spent the morning lazing about grandpa’s house as my youngest sister (3) led Adrian around the house in a manner not unlike the way Erin gets him to play with her at home, although Adrian’s tiny aunt was much less interested in just being up his face than Erin is.
I took a few minutes to update the world on my vacation and rub their noses in how much fun we were having and they weren’t na na na booboo. Then I dragged my dad out shopping, just the three boys. We hit a couple of stores, and the Cataraqui Towne Center looking for some decent chef’s knives and a magnet rack for them, a gift for my step-mother who has been wonderful.
We returned to the house and had some dinner followed by father-daughter banjo time! My dad pulled out his banjo and the three year old grabbed a tiny banjo and they played together in the living room while I wondered how I ended up in banjo land. Adrian was enthralled.
Bed time came and went, and Adrian has been sleeping for a couple of hours now while my dad and I sit in his basement and he plays YouTube DJ, pulling up banjo tracks and old Irish songs.
If you wondered where my talents as an #IronDJ and #Sprinklecorn host came from, wonder no longer. It’s his fault. It’s not the worst trait I get from him.
That would be wise-assery.
Good night from Canada.