Bedtime routine, interrupted

Last night we went to my dad’s office party.  It went pretty late, but Brandon held up.  Through the cocktail party, dinner and even the games and gift exchange.  But he struggled.  After dinner, around 830pm or so, we asked him if he was ready for night-night (hoping to get him to sleep so we could play the games).  He said, “Brush teeth?” and started brusing his teeth with the back of his fork.  Then he said, “Mickey?” referring to his Mickey Mouse pillowcase.  Those are all the essentials for sleep.  He did have a second wind around 9pm, maybe because my mom gave him two cookies.  But he was running around, playing “golf” with a ping pong ball.  But he faded for a second time as we were getting ready to leave, packing everything up and saying our goodbyes.  Brandon, bleery-eyed, pleaded, “Go home?”  We had brought his sleeper and a toothbrush which we used when we finally got in the car to go home.  As we were driving out, we realized that Brandon doesn’t like accelerating in the dark or that we were going over bumpy city streets and the drive was a little rough.  Maybe because he can’t see where he’s going and doesn’t like that feeling.  He grunts, has this panicked cry, and wants to hold my hand (difficult to do from the front seat).  Poor baby, it was making it difficult to sleep.  Finally, he did, and we had a peaceful ride home. 

Side note: going to my dad’s parties has been lucrative for us in the past few years that we’ve attended.  The first year, I got a prize for distinguishing a pair of identical twins based on clues given by each individual.  The second year, last year, my dad and I came in second place at the putting contest.  And this year, Dave and I both won at a combined group game, and I split the pot in musical chairs.  The way they do musical chairs is a bit cut-throat.  The teenage son of one of the employees noticed that one girl had not changed seats when she was supposed to.  She was sitting next to me, but I didn’t notice that she hadn’t moved.  But in any case, I saw my chance to eliminate a fellow contestant.  I called her out to the business manager, who gave her the boot and prompted her to say, “Who are you people?”  She really didn’t know who I was.  Probably better that way.  So it came down to one of my dad’s younger employees, a good-sized dude, probably outweighing me by at least 50 pounds, this thin, 5’9″ girl with high boots who wanted to use the heels to do some damage, and barefooted me (my heels would not have done me any good).  It was the girl, the dude, and me, racing across the lane for two chairs.  Regan, the dude, asked me which chair I was going for; I told him, “You go left, I go right.”  And he said, “Yeah, let’s take her out.”  So that’s exactly what we did.  He was a man of his word, went for the left chair and I safely landed in the right.  Then it was down to the two of us.  It was suggested by last year’s winner, my brother, that we split the pot so as not to kill each other (rather, so that I would not be killed).  We agreed to it, shook hands, but the audience still wanted a playoff.  So we gave the people what they wanted.  A showdown.  My only advantage was that he is a smoker.  Otherwise, I had no shoes and he outweighed me.  My mom was worried that we were going to run through the glass, so she wanted to have a wall of people between us and the window.  The one chair was turned around.  Ready, set, go (I was so shaky with all the adrenaline and that cup of coffee with dessert).  I ran my hardest, but was outwitted. I swear I got to the front of the chair first, touching the front edge to sit, but he grabbed the back of it and sat first.  Phew, lucky we agreed to split the $100 pot!  I had to make Brandon proud (but really, he didn’t even know what was going on, he was too busy playing with Dave who didn’t want any part of the contest).  He didn’t want to win enough to take someone out risking serious injury. 
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We didn’t get home until after midnight.  This morning, Brandon slept in until 1030am!  He still got up around 7am, but then went back to sleep.  I kept checking around 915am, 945am but it wasn’t until Dave got home from some errands that we were both up.  He couldn’t believe we were still sleeping and it was so late in the day.  Ahh…vacation.