Perhaps it was his high pitched screams whenever an 8 legged creature appeared. The pleas, "Honey, come get it. Come get it and kill it. NOW!" Or the fact that Mommy is known as the spider catcher/saver/terminator in our house. Whatever the clue, Gregory figured out his old man's achilles heel and clearly used this information for his own personal gain.
The first night I was away at my grandmother's memorial, Brian allowed Gregory to sleep in our bed. This is something we try to avoid at all costs in our household. Once you let a kid into your bed, they're like fleas or a bad house guest, they take up residence and are impossible to get rid of. So in our bed is where Gregory stayed for the next 3 nights until my return.
As the story goes, Brian put Gregory to bed after his usual story and song routine. Of course the boy talked to his monkey, jumped up and down in his crib, sang 'Celebration', pretty much did anything but sleep. Brian popped his head into the bedroom and said, "Hey, it's time to rest your body so lay down and go to sleep."
"Aw wight", was the response.
No sooner was Brian out the door when the, "Daddy. Daddy. Daddy? DADDY!!!!" started.
Trip number 2, Brian told Gregory that Charlie was asleep and he needed to quiet down.
The obligatory, "Okay, Daddy", and I'm sure he laid back down just to keep up appearances.
According to Brian, this went on a few more times until he threatened Gregory with shutting the door and turning out the light.
I can picture my husband snuggled back into bed and focused on his own slumber, until, "Daddy. Da-dee. DA-DEE. DAAAAA-DEEEEE." Pillow covering the ears, blanket pulled over the head, all meager defenses against the whiney voice of a 2 1/2 year old who is being ignored. And Gregory, a graduate of Grand Master Chief Charlie's toddler bootcamp, knew that in the face of adversity any good soldier went for the jugular. And so he did, "PIDER! PIDER! Daddy, there's a pider."
Brian was definitely spoiled up until my departure. I was the parent awoken when one of the kids even breathed funny. Noises loud or soft, my husband often slept right through unaware that I had been up a half dozen times. The poor man was ill prepared. Exhausted and fully manipulated by Gregory's knowledge of his own arachnophobia, Brian uttered those fatal words, "Do you want to sleep in Daddy's bed?"
Sucker.
Fast forward to Mommy's first night back home and it was pretty much an instant replay of the past 3 evenings. First the "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy?"
"Go to sleep, Gregory."
Then the, "Mommy, I need a drink of water. I need water."
Get up, trudge down the hall, "If I get you a drink of water are you going to go to sleep?"
"Yes, but I want water from the bathroom and I drink it out of the blue cup."
I get the water and before giving it to him, make him swear upon his monkey's life, "If I give this to you, you're going to lay down, right?"
"Yes."
"Here you go. Now go to sleep."
"Ok, Mommy."
Not five minutes later I hear, "I want to sleep in Mommy's bed. I want to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed."
Perhaps it was the jet lag or the feeling of the cold ass floor on my feet for the sixth time that caused me to snap. I marched into his room. He smiled as I glared. I said, "Gregory, if you do not go to sleep, I will get a spider from the hallway and put it into your bed. Do you understand?"
A barely audible, 'yes', escaped his lips. His poor little eyeballs almost popped out of his head. But wouldn't you know that boy laid down and went to sleep.
As I crawled back into my own bed, Brian asked what happened. When I told him he said, "You are cruel." Then promptly rolled over and fell back asleep.
I was cleaning up his mess, you would have thought he'd have been a little more grateful.
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