Return the child to Sender, Half Asleep

Earlier today, I asked Bigboy to take something out for dinner. His protein source of choice: chicken and bacon. The Plan A: fry up the bacon as bacon bits, stuff them into the chicken with cheese, bread everything and bake it. By the time I needed to start dinner, neither chicken nor bacon was thawed enough to bother. Plan B: run to town for pizza. Bigfoot won't mind pizza in the least bit. Coming home from four days of mischief and mayhem with 1000 other boys generates a bottomless need for pizza.

As I'm checking out of the grocery store, what should I encounter, but a ringing phone. Bigfoot has come home. According to Mom Mouse and Dad Jordan, he was awake until Gig Harbor, and asleep by Olalla. As the rented SUV came into Port Orchard, several countless attempts were made to wake him up before he got home.

His exhaustion is out of my hands. Powerless I am to aid him in his need for sleep. He was only surrounded by 1000 other boys from around Washington State. Testosterone went flying all around the Wenatchee Convention Center for four straight days.

Coming to you, from my reliable source Bigfoot, I have been told the 1.5K run was held at 1am Saturday. Yes, several hundred boys ran laps around the convention center in the middle of the morning. Can you say testosterone? I was also told four boys were riding the elevator up and down for the sheer pleasure of riding an elevator. Generation of this pleasure resulted in two boys pushing each other into the elevator alarm. Once this alarm was set off, and appropriately turned off, four boys went running from said elevator, one of whom ended up in a girls bathroom out of extreme requirement to pee.

Sleep was temporarily obtained over the weekend. Certain activities provided perfect opportunities for nodding heads, dozing off, short lived snoozing, and power naps. Every one of these from breakfast to initiatory degree sessions were taken advantage of. Bigfoot testifies to sleeping for somewhere around half an hour over the four day weekend.

Pizza came home, went into the oven, and within one hour of eating, Bigfoot crawled into bed. Never to be seen again that night, the child, who fights off sleep on a regular basis, willingly shut his eyes. He may wake up tomorrow. then again, maybe not.