A Diabolical Nap Trick

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 As Logged By:

Agent West

 

The diabolical plan is all set

For a trick they haven't yet met.

They will run and run some more

Away from what I have in store.

 

What's this cushy seat I'm in

That is when the rocking begins

I try to bat at the floating stars

Till I start dreaming of cars.

 

 "All I want is a hot meal," Mommy whines.  "For the last week, West has had some crazy catastrophe hit as soon as I put dinner on the table."
   
Hehe, yes I have! 
 
Wait until Mommy sees what I have in store for today.
 
"I know," Daddy tries to empathize.  However, Mommy isn't buying it.  One lift of her brow and he knows that she knows that he's been sneaking his dinner (his warm dinner) in before coming to help.  "What if I take him tonight?  Then you can enjoy a hot meal finally."
 
Oh, no, no, no.  That will not be possible.  Not with the calamity of diabolical crazy that I have ready.
 
To make sure that Mommy is stuck with me, I pout my lower lip and reach just for her.  I widen my eyes and I threaten to cry.
 
"Awe!!  How can I say, 'no,' to such a cute face."  Mommy picks me up and sets me on her hip.
 
This is perfect! 
 
Now, all I need is to grab my diabolical trick and Mommy will scream and run, then twirl about.  And she'll scream and run some more.
 
That's when Mommy spots something on the floor.
 
She barely glances at it, then does a double take.  The corners of her lips twitch.
 
"Look, baby Westie," she coos in an overly sweet tone.  "It's that the rocker your grandma sent."
 
A rocker?  What rocker?  Gram sent me a rocker?
 
Wait a minute!  I'm supposed to be sending you into a stinky panic attack.  What is this trick that you're doing, getting me distracted.
 
And not only that...
 
What is a rocker?
 
Click, Click, Snap.
 
Before I know it, Mommy has me sitting in a cushy seat and I'm strapped in with no chance of climbing out.
 
"I'm going to turn it on low.  Let's see what you think."
 
She turns a knob... and off my chair goes.
 
It rocks to the front, it rocks to the back.
 
Hey, I could get used to that!
 
Wait what about my exceedingly crazy, unstoppable and diabolical plan?  I must get out of this rocker!  I must, I must!
 
Wait... 
 
What are those things dangling above me?
 
They're poofy and pointy, and a little bit cute.  They look like floating stars.  One yellow, one gold, one sparkling, one bold.
 
Smack!  Swat!  Bap!  Bop!
 
I fling my hand at each one as it comes by, trying my best to bat away those floating stars.  It's not so easy, not when the rocker is rocking forward and back.
 
I keep swatting and smacking, though my arm starts to grow tired.
 
That's not all, now my eyelids are getting heavy.  I swat... I smack... 
 
I'm definitely not going to take a nap...
 
Ooh!  Look at that car.  A shiny red convertible.  It's just waiting for a diabolical dude like me.  I crawl behind the wheel and take it out for a spin.
 
Vroom!  Vroom! 
 
WEEEEEEEE!  
 
I never want this to end!
 
"I think he's fallen asleep," Daddy whispers.
 
"Shh, don't wake him," Mommy warns and enjoys a bite of warm dinner.
 
 
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