Kick kick kick.
Wake up! Wake up! It is 2 AM. I’m hungry!
The lifeless body didn’t budge.
Kick kick kick.
Swinging my arms around, I tried to pivot on my back towards Mommy lying next to me.
At two-months-old, moving for any distance is a challenge.
Kick kick kick.
Oh, I just kicked something.
Most likely the hip.
Kick kick kick.
As if jumping on a sideways trampoline, I pushed hard on the rib cage.
She stirred.
A second later, fingers started feeling around my face.
No dummy! I want milk, not a face massage.
“Wahhh!”
The fingers found the pacifier buried in my neck and shoved it back in my mouth.
I closed my eyes.
Satisfied.
Suck suck suck.
When is the milk coming?
Suck suck suck.
You tricked me!
Kick kick kick.
Time to feed me.
The pacifier fell out of my mouth as I started wailing.
“Okay, okay, I’m up,” still half-asleep, Mommy got off the bed and turned on the light.
I only have to kick her 15 times tonight before getting a response. Perhaps Daddy will do better when he takes the next shift.