Kintropy In Action

"So Hannah," I started.  She looked up from the potty, eyes 3 am bright.  "What goes garble-garble, step, step, klunk, WAAAAAAAAH!"

Hannah laughed.  Janette told me to stop it.  Gabriel, tears blinked away now, slept quietly on our bed.

"It was kind of funny," I grumbled.  Hannah enjoyed my re-enactment of Gabriel's sleepwalk/tumble down from the bunk-bed.  It made her laugh.  Mom?  Not so much.

I was just glad he hadn't really gotten hurt.  I woke maybe a minute before 2:30am - listening to the quiet of our first night at Great Wolf Lodge in Washington.  We had enjoyed a fun half-day in the water after check in.  Hannah had played in the kiddie-pool and tide pool.  Gabriel and Janette, then Gabriel and me had sped down the 48" height required water slides.  It had been a fun, full day.

I heard Gabriel wake in sleepwalking mode, muttering to himself within a minute of waking myself.  I considered moving over to the bunk bed he and Hannah were sharing, but figured since he had a bunk bed at home, he'd be okay.  

He took the first step.  I was showering him in my confidence by staying in bed, listening attentively.  He could make it.

He made the second step.  Ah, no worries.  He would make it.

Then he fell.  And howled.

At Great Wolf Lodge, the hours between 11pm and 7am are officially quiet time:  hibernation time, in wolf speak.  Well, we were certainly the unruly cub of the pack at that moment.  Gabriel's howl was loud and long.  Janette and I both went to the bed.  We quickly paired off:  her with Hannah (up now, might as well go the bathroom; me, with Gabriel.

"Gabriel, what hurts!"

"My back."  Sniffle.  Sniffle.  "Owwwww..."  He shook with still-not-awake sleepwalkiness.  He walked about easily.  I quickly checked his eyes, looked for blood, looked for quick bruising or anything serious on his back.  Nothing showed. 

He and I talked further, but he really just wanted to say "Ow" and crawl back to sleep (in our bed instead, of course).  I managed to get him to take some ibruprofin, and I grabbed some ice in a bag from the vending machine.  I set the ice in a towel and layed it across his back.

"Thanks, Dad."  And then he was back asleep.

He woke easily the next morning, not stiff, but a little out of sorts.  All seemed good:  at least no concussion.  On to the next day, our second day of family vacation.  At this point, I was sure we had paid our unseen companion, the peculiar vacation gremlin, its toll for this vacation.

I was, of course, wrong.

-- Dad