Futility

Noun?
One of those afternoons when you drive a little longer so that the child or children fall asleep in the car, but wake when you place them on the bed after walking through the house and up the stairs after weighting up whether to put them on the couch or in their own bed with their own toys. They open an eye and feebly protest so you hop in bed with them and start to go to sleep because it always works better for them to go to sleep if you are doing it for real as well.
But then you develop Talkative Brain Syndrome – when you should be sleeping but your brain just goes and goes and you could probably fill a blackboard with crazy equations that solve the dilemma of world peace and you try to decide whether to write that shit down or just go the fuck to sleep because you are so ever-loving tired.
You decide against world peace but start in on the Mother Loving Peekaboos: when you have to look at your child because they are gorgeous and sleeping in cute positions and you can hear them breathing – but not snoring because they had their tonsils taken out – but you should be sleeping because you already wasted all that time with the whole world peace thingy.
And then it all goes to shit because angel baby has turned horizontal in the bed and kicks you a nipple cripple which wakes THEM up, wtf?!

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