Here's how you know when you're tired:
And you don't wake up.
If it hadn't been for a John Deere tractor that kept making its sound effects over and over three pillows above my head, I might still be sleeping. Permanently. Smothered, anyone?
It was strangely reminiscent of Stuff on Brody.
After I slithered out of my hole so that the mound would remain intact (do you see the hole from where I crawled?), I told the girls to start cleaning the mess. They argued, of course, because they thought *I* should be the one to clean up the pillows, dinosaurs, pillow pets, bracelets, plastic snakes, dolls, blankets, Elmo, ruler and plastic cup piled on top of me.
Oh, and the John Deere tractor.
But I said that no, THEY could clean it up since they piled it and since they are the reason I was so doggone tired. They were each up at least once last night at separate times, plus Chloe was up twice with an ear infection. Zzzzzzzzzz.
I took a picture of my disheveled, sleepy self because it seemed a perfect partner to this post, but I decided to save the internet from my morning glory.
See ya later. I have a room to clean.