When Gemma's nap-time came, I was exhausted. I almost fell asleep reading "Frog and Toad" to Ben so I decided to rest while Gemma was napping. I closed my door and had Ben come into my room and play with some books and toys. He was a bit feisty in the beginning, slamming the closet door repeatedly, but eventually he quieted down and I tripped off to dreamland.
When I woke up 45 minutes later, I had a little surprise waiting for me. I had (un-opened) tampons on my head "making Mommy pretty." Ben found my bag of feminine items and he had collected them in an empty laundry basket. He was pushing them out of the side of basket torpedo-style and saying that he was "Shooting sticks. For my work." I'm sorry Ben, but what job is this exactly? I fail to see how that is legitimate work. That was not the end of the madness. The floor had sanitary napkins adhered to it and I was told by Ben that, again, "I'm doing my work, I put windows all over the floor."
This is what I get for taking a nap. I knew I should have ignored all of those unwanted bits of advice to "sleep when your baby sleeps."
