When you have a baby you spend so much time baby proofing every room of the house, that the only room where the baby spends little or no time – our bedroom – slowly becomes the least human-friendly room north of Guantanamo.
Thus, as I was awoken by Karel at 2 am last night, and staggered out of bed while trying hard not to be bitter about my wife remaining in bed for once now that the baby does not require boob but rather a tiny sip of water, I only got to the first corner of the bed before I hit some unidentified object and stubbed my toe like no toe has ever been stubbed before. After exhausting a string of swearwords I thought I’d long forgotten, and making my way down the corridor I was helped, ironically, in my efforts not to faint by the echo of my throbbing toe.
Probably just to spite me, Karel needed to be held for approximately 3.2 seconds before he’s yet again fast asleep. As I limped back to the bedroom, I was about to return to my side of the bed while thinking “with my toe being so numb and all I don’t really care what kind of trap I might run into this time,” when I heard a voice from my wife’s side of the bed:
“Don’t be stupid!!”
“Thanks for the advise,” I replied sardonically, and clambered into bed on her side. “In fact, I wish somebody had offered me that sort of advise much earlier in life. It would’ve made my life so much easier.”
“You’re welcome”.
“I would’ve felt safer than I do here if our bed was located in the demilitarised zone of Korea.”
At this point we both started laughing….
