Meet Bear. He lives in a big, blue house with his friends. Bear is Poet's current fave in the realm of DVD watching. Every night after dinner, she marches into the living room, points at the TV, cocks her head like a sad little puppy, and says "Bear?" Only you know it isn't a question, no sirree, it's a demand. Well, more like a threat: Play Bear for me, or you won't know a moment's peace for the rest of the night. But I digress. This post isn't about Poet, it's about Bear, and his effect on me.
Our routine, once Bear has been demanded, is for me to sit in my seat and start the DVD, then Poet jumps up in my lap while Happy dances in front of the TV. I recline the chair, I hit the play button on the remote... and I'm out. I have no idea why, but for whatever reason, I conk within two minutes of the video starting. No, it's not the chair, or the position, because I sit in the chair often, and even frequently recline. It's Bear. He's magic, I tell you. I've slept through an entire three episode event before, even with Poet getting bored and jumping down, and the kids playing noisily nearby. It's kinda weird, but it's almost worth me buying a TV/DVD combo for the bedroom and putting the darned thing on continual play overnight. Almost, but I don't think Amy would approve...
