One of the reasons why Jack and I work so well together is that we balance each other out. While I am fairly mercurial, I can always count on Jack to be measured and even-keeled…with the exception of his sleeping hours.
Jack is famous for sleep-walking and talking. Everyone who’s lived with him has tales to tell. Waking him up after he’s dozed off on the couch during a movie will always produce such proclamations as “The Silver Age of Jesus!!!”, or “All Hail Midget!”, or “Horseshoes!!!”.
During the first week home with Hazel, I woke Jack up in bed.
“Rock the baby,” I asked.
He then got up, went to my side of the bed and began to roll me from side to side.
“The baby!!! The baby!!!,” I corrected. “Wait. Cancel that. Don’t touch the baby.”
The other night as we got into bed I began to fret about being so exhausted and having to wake up again so soon with baby Hazel.
“I’ll wake up and feed her,” said Jack.
I laughed. Jack is fairly incapable of hearing the baby cry right next to him and waking himself up.
Sure enough, within 30 seconds, Jack was sound asleep and the baby began to cry.
I picked Hazel up and nudged him.
“You sure woke up,” I said.
“A siren!!! A clarion call!!! An infant!!!” he replied.