The Witch is Dead

This is a postscript to Playdate Stalker, so you will see what I am really dealing with here...

I love, love, love sleeping in.

There is nothing better than a raging storm outside and finding yourself snuggled in your warm covers, so warm in fact that you have to stick a foot or two out to cool down a little. This morning was a dream come true...on a day when I normally would have been out the door by 7 a.m. at the latest to drive a child to orchestra, school was called off for a storm. Yippee! Sleeping in time!

The house stayed quiet until about 7:30, when Youngest Daughter woke up and looked out her window to see lots and lots of snow. She was so excited, she started yelling at everyone, from her bed, by name, one by one, at the top of her lungs to come and look. Finally, I yelled from my bed, "Hey YD! Everyone is asleep, so stop yelling!!!"

It was silent in the house for a moment. Then, I could hear a noise. It was YD, singing quietly in her bed.

"Ding, dong, the witch is dead, da da da da, the witch is dead. Ding, dong, the wicked witch is dead...."

My bed began to vibrate. Was YD casting some kind of voodoo magic into my room to make me suffer for stomping on her snow filled/school canceled morning? Au contraire, my friends. It was CH, trying really hard not to laugh out loud at YD's apparently accurate assessment of my morning moods. So I stuck my ice cold hand down the back of his pants and said, "Keep laughing, asshole, you'll never taste the Clorox in your coffee."

And thus began another day in our storybook existence.

The end.