I think exposure to sounds when you are an infant gives you the ability to sleep through them when you are older. Whatever the real reason, my son has thankfully inherited my ability to sleep through most anything. He has a rather noisy bed if an adult sits on it.b If he falls asleep during story time its impossible to leave his room without a full minute of sound effects from “Creaky Old Boat: The Movie”.
Posts Tagged ‘sleep’
One of my favorite stuffed animals as a kid was a Winnie the Pooh bear that had a wind up music box inside. It played the “Winnie the Pooh” song which I would sing along with in my head…
“Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the Pooh, la la la la la la la la.”
I actually have no idea if the rest of the song has lyrics. I would wind it up as tight as I could and then place my head on his belly as the song played over and over. My favorite part was the sound of the whirring parts inside during the pause that happened before the song started over again.
Today’s Biff is up there.
My favorite nightlight when I was a kid was sort of a little slide projector that put images of Disney characters on my ceiling. It did not help me get to sleep. I would climb down out of bed and lay down on my back next to it. I liked to grab the spinning wheel of images and manually move it around to control which image was shown and for how long. This eventually broke it.
Today’s Biff has hay fever.
I wonder if the whole “The Moon is made of cheese” story captured people’s attentions more back before humans had been there. I remember seeing it like that in old cartoons and thinking “What? That’s not right.” We would have found the space cows by now.
There’s nothing a cute sleeping puppy can’t do if it puts it’s dreams to it. I don’t know why they are so stubborn. How many dreams about chasing squirrels do you really need? They always get away. Let’s dream about global warming for a change. Make a difference.
Our last hotel stay started out a little weird. It was the recommended hotel for a comic show we were attending. A bunch of other creators had stayed there before and said it was good. We checked in and got our keys to room 200. We walked up the stairs to the second floor and for a moment we couldn’t find where it was. “Maybe that skinny door back by the stairs leads to another section? Oh wait… it says 200 on this door.” What we found inside was a very worn down cinderblock room that was apparently the storage shed for their lawn service equipment up until the week prior to our arrival. Someone left one of their old mattresses under the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling and declared it a “room”.
We went back to the lobby to complain and the person behind the desk didn’t seem very surprised to see us. As he looked up a new room in the computer for us one of his coworkers walked by.
“Hey, these people don’t like their room. Guess which one it is?” Without a millisecond of thought he replied “200.”
I guess it’s some sort of game they play to see how many people they can get to never come to their hotel again?
My usual problems with sleeping are from strange sounds. I hate those mysterious sounds that come from an unidentifiable location. I’m sometimes convinced there must be a bear or caribou trying to bust in through the basement door but when I investigate there is never anything there.