Toothpicks please

So it was my 36th birthday yesterday and I'm sitting here with toothpicks holding my eyes open while I try and recall it.  I think it was a pretty good day as far as birthdays go but my brain is all fuzz due to the 7 yr old sleeping with me last night.  It all started at his bedtime when half an hour after lights out he apparently thought his roof was leaking.  I explained that it hadn't been raining so that was pretty much impossible.  He insisted I was wrong and since I'd had a long day on my feet working at the Food Show and all I really wanted to do was blob on the couch, eat some Burger King and watch 'offspring' I quickly decided the last thing on my list was trying to win an argument at nine o clock at night so just told him to go get into my bed. Drama over I thought.  Its been awhile since the 7yr old has been in my bed.  We used to do that all the time when the husband was away.  It stopped the exact moment he started grinding his teeth in this sleep.  Some nights I can hear him from his bedroom. DISGUSTING.  We may need to invest in some sort of mouth guard at some stage or at the very least sound proof our walls.  It can't be good for his little pegs.

 If it was a Friday or Saturday night I would've just plucked him out of my bed and deposited him back in his own cold sheets before he could blink or moan at the injustice of it all but as last night was a Sunday and he had school today I didn't want to be that mean troll mother so decided to suffer through the torture.  I tried sleeping with my fingers in my ears.  Fail.  I tried pulling a pillow over my head.  Fail.  I tried gently shaking him saying "darling stop grinding your teeth" in my best 1960's sing song house wife mother of the year voice.  Fail.  He just rolled over flinging one arm across my face and kicking me in the ribs.  This went on for hours.  I'd just get to sleep and he would rip me out again with some revolting skin crawling teeth grind or an elbow to my face.  At one point during these never ending hours of sleeplessness I found myself squished on the edge of the bed, one foot on the floor, a dog on my other foot, a cat on my chest and the son star fished sideways across the rest of the bed.  At that moment I decided to make a stand, enough was enough and went and slept on his top bunk with his 26 soft toys.  Obviously the cat had enough too cause about 20 minutes later she joined me as well.  Unfortunately when entering his room I forgot to try and avoid the mine field of fucken lego bits littered all over his floor.  There really isn't any words to describe the pain that comes from tired cold bare feet connecting with a tiny green lego tree in the pitch black at 4 o'clock in the morning when your really not prepared for it.  A few thousand silent obscenities left my mouth as I climbed the bunk ladder.  A sailor would've been proud at the combination of swear words I strung together and still the rest of the house slept.  I'm such a good mother.
It felt like I blinked and then that little voice was saying "Mum why are you in my bed? Can you make me some cornflakes? I wish I could sleep with you every night!"