It didn't help... In fact I barely got to close my eyes, before Annie started crying for no apparent reason. Applehead was in the other end of the room, so he didn't do anything. To her, at least. But he had found the box of band-aid's and had started unwrapping them and stick them to random places.
"Applehead! No!" I yelled, before I got out of bed and picked up Annie. I had no idea how to handle this new situation, but I knew we had to get out of here. Fast. So, we did. Kind of...
First Applehead hid the car keys. They were later found, neatly wrapped in a paper tissue with a Mickey Mouse band-aid on, under the bed. Then Annie had an explosion in her diaper, and needed to change from head to toe. And while I did that, Applehead started complaining about the ice-cream I'd promised him, and I finally managed to get him to eat a whole bun, that was sliced into small pieces, by promising to buy him that ice-cream, if he was a good boy and helped me with Annie's baby carriage and our luggage. But I was quick to keep him from running off with the baby carriage, in fear of what could happen to Annie. So instead I made him help with our suitcase. It was on wheels anyway, so it wasn't that heavy. Not like that really mattered. He was an grown man, for crying out loud! But whether he was adult or not didn't help much, because in the elevator on our way down, he managed to unlock it, so all our clothes fell out on the elevator floor, including our underwear! Of course, he did... And then he got so startled when I yelled at him, that he backed into the emergency button and made the elevator stop. Which wasn't a very bad thing, since it left me some time to pick up our stuff before people could see. But then we had to wait almost fifteen minutes for someone to restart the elevator, so we could get out. And I was really, really grateful to keep Applehead from crying while we walked the walk of shame, down to the lobby, signing the keys back and out to get our car.
"Yeeeyyy!!! I got to ride shotgun!" he squealed, as I put Annie into her car seat to loud objections.
"You should be glad we don't have a shotgun anymore, snotbag," I muttered to myself, before I sat behind the wheel and fastened the seat belt on both Applehead and me.
"Are we gonna get ice-cream now? Please? I want ice-cream!"
"Yes, we can buy ice-cream, if you stop poking at everything. Don't touch that! That's the air condition. Not that either! That's... Applehead!! Stop touching things! Seriously! Do I have to tie your hands up?!"
Calm down, Gail. He's just a child. He doesn't know any better. Yeah, but it would be so much easier to strap him in a children's car seat in the back, where his long tentacle arms didn't reach anything dangerous.
"If you want ice-cream, kiddo, then sit on your hands until I say."
I drove off, and it lasted about halfway down the block, then he was all over the place again. He opened the car window and was about to climb out, before I managed to yank him back inside and turn on the window locks. Then he poked my ear so I yelped, and took off his seat belt before we even came to the next crossroad.
"Listen carefully, bugger!" I hissed, after parking the car halfway on the sidewalk.
"We're not getting anywhere if you can't sit still! Jesus Christ! What am I going to do with you?!"
I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel trying to come up with something smart, but the only thing I came up with, was to drug the bastard, get to Andorra, and check in at some random hotel somewhere, while praying that one of Michael's other personalities would come through. This wasn't any fun at all!
"I have an idea, Applehead. What do you say about having two ice-creams?"
"Really?! Two?? Yeeey! You're the best mommy in the world!"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm the best," I said so unamused that I almost fell asleep.
"See that McDonald's over there?"
I pointed out the direction, and Applehead nodded eagerly.
"That's ice-cream number one. Can you count the cars until we get there?"
"But I can only count to three."
"Well, then... Count to three as many times as you can."
"Three - three - three - three..."
Pretend to not hear him, Gail. You can teach him how to count later, in a more child friendly environment. Just get him some ice-cream to distract him enough to go through with your plan. Focus!
So I did. He got the 'temporary' treat to keep him calm enough to buy the next one, plus a bottle of melatonin from the pharmacy. Then I sprinkled his ice-cream with it, and stirred well. I handed it to him and patted his head.
"Sleep well, fruit face."
******
We managed to get to Andorra, and thankfully passed the border too without much problems, since my little 'toddler' was still asleep. But when we checked into the hotel, it all became a different story. I carried Annie and the luggage to our room, with Applehead still sleeping in the car. And if he were a normal three and a half year old, you would just carry him inside and put him to bed. But try to do that to someone who's both taller, and heavier than you...
It ended with me having to ask two of the staff members to help me. They looked at each other and then at me, then at Applehead unconscious in the car, and since we didn't speak the same language, I put my hand to my mouth and pretended to drink. The two men instantly nodded with a laugh that showed that they clearly knew what I was talking about. But hey, it was a lot easier to explain that your husband was drunk, than to tell them that he was a drugged toddler. In Catalonian! Still, the problem wasn't solved after putting him to bed. Because after feeding Annie, changing her diaper and get her to sleep, I barely got under the covers myself, before Applehead was starting to wake up. Oh, yes. And with that, the night was ruined.
I tried my best to make him take some more of the melatonin, but he refused. Instead he started complaining about being hungry, which was quite understandable, since he hadn't eaten more than a bun and the two ice-creams. So I ended up ordering some food, after stubbornly convincing the hotel staff that people needed food in the middle of the night too. And while we waited for the food to arrive, I tried to distract him enough to keep him from jumping on the bed, where Annie was sleeping, and to teach him how to use his indoor voice.
He ate a yogurt and some cereal, but frowned when I tried to give him some sliced melon. So I tried to wipe his face free from yoghurt. But that was easier said than done, because of his two day old beard.
"Come on, little one. I think you need a bath."
"YEEEEEY! I LOVE THAT!", he squealed so loudly that Annie stirred a little, and I was quick to shush him.
Just be grateful he actually love to bathe, Gail. There are kids that like to wash their hair just as much as cats do. Oh, shut up. Nothing can make my life feel jollier the way things are now. Nothing!
"Be quiet! You're gonna wake up your daug... Uhm. Little sister?"
He blinked his eyes, but instead of dwelling with it, I took his hand and led him to the bathroom, where I filled up the tub with nice, warm water. Then I helped him undress and to climb in. But then...
"Mommy... I gotta pee."
"No! Not in the bathtub! Hurry! Get out!"
But it was too late... Judging by the relieved look on his face, he was already done when he said it, and I groaned in disgust.
"Stand up, Applehead. I need to... Fuck. Whatever."
I drained the water, then cleaned the tub, and partially him as well. Then I refilled it so he could sit down, and I could wash his hair. Oh... Those soft, wet curls... Why didn't I do this more often? And I saw Applehead quiet down and relax too, by the touch of my fingers.
"I need to shave you now," I said, after having covered his body in bubbles with a sponge.
"What is shaving?"
I stroke his chin so he could feel what I was talking about.
"Normally, you don't like beard, so you shave every morning."
"Beard?! Like Santa Claus?"
"Yeah. Kind of like him," I confirmed with a smile. Then I found the razor.
"NOOOO!" he screamed, and tried to get up. But because of the water and soap, it was slippery, so he fell backwards and hit his head, that of course caused him to start crying. So I hugged him a little, feeling my clothes get wet, but he just wouldn't calm down, so I climbed up in the tub with him, a sat on his legs.
That shut him up.
"Mommy, you can't bathe with your clothes on," he finally said.
"Uhm... You see. Mommies can do that from time to time, because... Because..."
I couldn't find a way to explain to him that it was inappropriate to be naked with him in the state of mind he was in. Heck, he could be scarred for life!
"Because when you shave, you need to sit completely still so you don't cut yourself. You remembered what happened to your fingers this morning, right?"
He nodded, with terror in his eyes.
"Exactly. And we don't want to make that happen again, do we?"
He shook his head.
"But we need to do this, and you..."
I tapped his chest.
"...need to pretend to be a statue. Statues don't move."
"Like a statue of Superman?"
I thought for a second, then nodded.
"Yeah. Like Superman."
And with that, Applehead straightened his back, put one hand on his chest and the other up in the air.
"Up, up, and awaaaaay!" he said proudly, and I found that it was best to hurry before he got tired of being a superhero. Luckily, I managed to shave him, rinse all the soap and balm out of his hair and off his body and dry him, and put his PJ on, brush his teeth and put him to bed without further accidents. And after putting on a dry t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, I found myself decent enough to be in bed with a minor. Well, two since Annie was there too. And I let Applehead rest his head on my chest, while I caressed his hair, randomly massaging his hair roots. Then, finally, at 6am, he drifted off to sleep again. And soon after, I did too. Almost. Because shortly after, Annie woke up...
Fuckshitcrapmotherfuckingshitheadfuckingsasstinking..............!!!!
Time for round number two, Gail...