A little a.m. NOS banter...

GKG: "What time do I need to wake you?" (Repeat three times.)

Didgeridoo Boy: "CAN'T YOU FIND SOMETHING TO DO??? JEEZ!"

***

So, that being said, let's flash back to last night. Didgeridoo Boy went out at about 5pm and bought himself a colorful can of NOS energy drink, a strangely fruity concoction that leaves him as happy and jacked up as a four-year-old on Skittles at Halloween. Once he'd consumed some of it and danced, he happily settled in to watch "Toy Story III" while I wandered *back* to the bedroom to continue resting out my stomach bug.

A little while later, he popped into the bedroom door, jiggled his leg (regular readers will know this is a sign), and asked me for the tape. I told him where to find it, and asked what he was up to. He jiggled his leg some more. Then he told me that he would be rearranging the speakers to the television and stereo again. I stared. He assured me he wouldn't be needing me to help him, he just needed the tape so he could rearrange the speakers. Then he swore again I would not have to reach or crawl through anything. I continued to stare, and told him I would not be moving. He jiggled his leg. I said, "At all."

So off he went to take care of the entire project without me, and fast. Once finished, he watched what he swore was the greatest superhero movie he'd ever seen ("Kick-Ass"), if not one of the best movies he'd ever seen in his entire life, and danced even more - partially from excitement over the movie, I'm sure, but mostly from the zippity goodness of his NOS. Around 10pm, I left the bedroom for food, and found him engrossed in "G.I. Joe: The Rise of the Cobra". He was decidedly not enjoying that one. The dancing had turned to pacing, and what had been gleeful enthusiasm had turned to a very accelerated form of something resembling angst. I ate and ran - well, walked at a normal pace, which qualifies as running at present.

While I was asleep, I was aware of sounds of movement and conversation - I'm assuming he was on the phone. I also heard something crash, but that might have been a dream (here's hoping). When I got up at 8am, Didge was still awake, sitting on the couch looking at something on his computer. In the two minutes it took me to take care of the furboos and get a glass out of the cabinet for my iced coffee, he managed to fall out where he sat. I asked him what time I should wake him. He turned a full aerial roll, landing in the same spot, and said nothing. I asked again - because I need to know these things. He kicked. On the third time, he told me to find something to do.

So, yes. I can find something to do. Mom and I are going to have lunch and work on a battle plan for painting the house, and I think I might go to a well-stocked purveyor of toys for a hula hoop that rattles. We have a very spacious living room with a high ceiling that will be perfect for remastering an activity I loved so much as a child. Isn't it wonderful to have your beloved so greatly inspire such rediscovery?