We turned the clocks ahead yesterday. We were supposed to do it Saturday night but we forgot. We were too busy eating pizza and watching "Barbie: The Nutcracker." Which, by the way, is not half bad. They seem to have paid a famous Hollywood script doc a bundle to deliver a good story. Worked.
Needless to say DIH has had screenwriting on the brain ever since.
Anyway last night was a school night. And we were virtuous about it. Uniform pressed, baths taken, in bed on time, no TV, reading in bed allowed though (Nancy Drew for Sophia, Agatha Christie for me).
And once again virtue was its own reward. I could not sleep. All night. When you find yourself contemplating mattress brands at 4 am, that's not good.
So this morning. Up at 6, coffee made, daughter roused, daughter's crankiness soothed, in the car, off to school. On time.
Then I came home and sat down on the sofa and the next thing I knew it was 10:30.
But do not think DIH was goofing off, even in her sleep. Oh no. I dreamed an entire movie. It featured Jake Gyllenhall as part of a three-man "Cowboys for Kids" team, a talking mouse who had lost his voice trying to scream for help, and a traumatized little boy.
This is either really sick or genius. Oscars, here I come.