Shattered sleep

You know it's going to be a long night (or a very short one) when your brain is busy constructing limericks when you're supposed to be asleep.  

There once was a fellow called Pop

whose snoring at night would not stop.

His wife meant no ill will

but went in for the kill;

her pillow gave him a big THWOP!

Honey (AKA That Awful Dog) was barking for no discernible reason, Thing Two was up way later than he should have been, and a certain someone who shall remain nameless snored, it seemed, no matter which sleeping position was utilized. I hate nights when I get ganged up on, though I am well aware how good I have it most nights. We are in our own home, most of us in our own rooms even, not stuffed in a tent in a refugee camp somewhere. I can't even imagine. Talk about there by the grace of God go I. So blessed. Even on a Monday, even after shattered sleep. Let's hear some limericks! (Keep it clean, people; my kids read this!) 

Have a super week!