We were in our room, minding our own business (I was on Pinterest and Nick was watching some dumb action movie), when we heard Liam stirring around. He was out of his room and in the spare room. I knew this because I heard the chain on the lamp dinging against itself. How endearing… He’s looking for his momma. But then….
We heard him heading down the hall to (dum dum dum) OUR ROOM. Nick said, “Oh shit, here he comes!” And turned off the TV. I turned my phone off, and rolled over close to my husband. We were quiet in the dark, not making a peep. We couldn’t see him, but we could surely hear him.
He was walking through, passing Nick’s side up, sucking (more like going to town) on his pacifier, when Nick busts out laughing. And I could hear it. Liam, stopping dead in his tracks, and turning around, searching for his prey… Nick regains his composure and Liam continued on his journey to his targeted destination: ME.
As I lay, laughing (quietly), so hard that I’m crying, all I can hear is hard breathing (note to self: teach this kid to pick his nose), and pacifier sucking. He was just standing there, waiting for me to make a move. I was scared to death. I finally stop laughing long enough to reach for him, only to poke him in the eye.
I walked the monster back to his room, and he yelled, “I want to watch Mickey Mouse!” I told him no, and he started chanting, “Mickey Mouse, Mickey Mouse, MICKEY MOOOOUUUSSSEE.”
I went back to bed, and he was back up and out in the hall. Nick met him in the hall and escorted him back to his bed.
The next morning, I asked Nick if he gave in and turned Liam’s TV back on, and he said, “Nope. Liam, what did I tell you I was going to do to you, if you got up again?”
Liam looked him in the eyes and said, slowly, “Whoop. My. Ass.”