Darth Mom Strikes Back

Getting DSguy out of bed in the morning is rather like pulling something out of drying cement. It’s doable, but it’s not going to be easy.

DSguy inherited his mother’s early morning disposition—or rather, lack thereof. Getting up in the morning rates right up there with dentist drills and gynecology appointments. Almost. OK, maybe not gynecology appointments. Those are in a class all their own. I’ll stop there, before I make someone blush.

Most mornings start with a chirpy, “Time to get up, DSguy!” from me or The Man. (FYI, The Man is significantly less chirpy.) That works about as well as a lead balloon. About fifteen minutes later, we return to find DSguy curled up in his blankets, trying his best to ignore our cajoling. We rip the blankets off and try again. Nothing. Again and again, we try to rouse him, but the kid just won’t budge.

The Man gets tired of the endless encores and picks up DSguy, planting him firmly in his chair at the kitchen table. I tell the bleary-eyed DSguy to get dressed and I will give him some breakfast. Begrudgingly, DSguy obliges and shuffles toward his room. After he’s gone, we have a few moments to make some coffee and try to wake up ourselves.

We savor the sweet morning brew until we realize DSguy has not resurfaced. I return to his bedside, only to find him curled up in his blankets, out cold. This will not do. I am forced to get creative.

I leave the room and return with a loaded squirt bottle. Donning my best Sith Lord voice, I tell DSguy that Darth Mom has arrived and is ready to use the dark side of the force if he doesn’t get his Padawan posterior out of bed! A few Vader breaths later, a warning spritz gets DSguy on his feet.

Victory for Darth Mom! Good thing for the young Padawan. I would have called in Dad Sidious next.