The 4 am velociraptor. There’s this thing that happens at 4 am sometimes, this crazy-haired-child clumsily walks into our bedroom usually running square into the door handle that’s ajar, and the only response is a high pitched squaking that can only be described as a velociraptor.
Violet, do you need some water?
Are you warm? Do you want to take off your cosy pajamas?
Violet, did you have a bad dream?
Violet, come here, come lay down with mom and dad.
Okay Violet, stop being a velociraptor. I don’t like velociraptors.
Me: Ugh, what time is it even?
Jamie: Rock Paper Scissors.
I lost. I had to risk my life picking up the velociraptor, tackling it down to our bed and wait for it to wake up, become semi logical and demand a grilled cheese be ready when it wakes up in the morning, and a sip of water right this second.
Thought that ran through my head right that moment? Velociraptors at 4Am make me question whether I want a third kid, or a Mini Cooper.