As previously stated, Ethel—my middle-of-the-night brain—has taken it upon herself to fill my head with silly ideas and send me off on endless tangents when I should be sleeping. Consequently, I periodically try to catch up on sleep during the day.

Unfortunately I’ve never been a napper. I know people (a sister, a brother, a husband) who lie down to take a nap and then they do. I don’t understand how that works. Long before Ethel came along with her high-kicking, swashbuckling, middle-of-the-night vaudevillian routines, practically daring sleep to muscle its way in, I was a poor napper.

Although I do recall the time I was pregnant with our second child and caring for our first who needed constant surveillance. After fighting the urge to lie down, I gave in, just for a little rest. You can guess how that went. Shortly after the sandman bagged me, I awoke with a start, and the sight of my bloody pillow sent me into full-blown panic. I pulled back trying to assess which part of my head had been damaged. Once I determined lips, nose, and forehead were all intact, I looked around. A few feet away stood my little daughter with an innocent face and a red marker. Apparently a dry white pillowcase can soak up a lot of ink pretty quickly and I imagine if you’re two years old that kind of oozing is far more rewarding than scribbling on, say, a dark couch, or a wooden coffee table, or even a brownish carpet.

Where was I? Oh, yes. Naps. So, anyway, since Ethel became determined to visit me nightly with her clever ideas, I’ve become more determined to learn how to do the nap thing. I even read a book on what a great habit it is and tried to follow the instructions for relaxing and clearing my mind. I prepared. I planned. I didn’t just flop on the couch like the lucky nappers. I did a few body-loosening moves, brought in my favorite pillow, closed the curtains, and settled on the couch. As I pulled a soft blanket up to my chin I pretended I was lying in the shade of a lovely maple. The wind was moving ever so softly and I focused on the leaves swaying back and forth, back and forth, back and–

BREAKING NEWS! HUGE AQUARIUM FRONT AND CENTER! CARTOON FISH—CLEARLY DISNEY MOVIE REJECTS—POPPING OUT OF THE WATER IN TURN, HANGING ON EDGE OF GLASS, HOWLING HALLELUJAH CHORUS!

ETHEL!