The Bedtime Filibuster

In my most recent Odessa American column I discussed the five stages of bedtime grief experienced by children. There is also another bedtime phenomenon that happens almost nightly in the Sharp household - the bedtime filibuster.

Perhaps the above definition of filibuster would be helpful.

Now, the bedtime filibuster does not revolve around a legislative session or unauthorized warfare against a foreign country, although it can feel like a battle at times. The goal of the filibusterer at bedtime is to delay the action as long as humanly possible. 

This takes on many forms depending on which child is filibustering.

The Zoologist and the Ballerina stay in the same room so they tend to practice a complicated maneuver know as the coordinated filibuster. Because there are two of them they alternate Their delaying efforts. 

The Ballerina always has to tell a joke which goes something like this.

Ballerina: Knock, knock,
Me: Who’s there?
Ballerina: Seahorse.
Me (beginning to feel my life force ooze away): Seahorse who?
Ballerina: Seahorse you! Get it!

I laugh, but I don’t actually get it.

Then, because the Ballerina told a joke, the Zoologist tells a joke which goes a little differently.

Zoologist: Knock, Knock.
Me: Who’s there?
Zoologist: Koala.
Me (trying to keep the last of my life force from oozing our of my toes): Koala who?
Zoologist: Koala bears aren’t really bears, they are actually marsupials. They live in Australia, which is where kangaroos live too. They eat eucalyptus, and their babies are called joeys. 

At this point he usually has to take a breath, and I interject something to stop the filibuster. In some social circles this would be considered rude behavior, but remember this is unauthorized warfare. 

After the jokes they start asking questions. They want to know how electricity works, why dogs chase their tails, where Egypt is on the globe, when we are gonna my back to the zoo, who gets to put the toothpaste on the toothbrushes tomorrow, and a litany of other questions that might stump Johnny 5.

Mercifully I am finally able to shut the questions down and make my escape.

The Demolitions Expert has a much different style. Initially she insists that she be covered up with her blankets, (all four of them!) in a specific order. Then she remembers that she needs a lovie which has been strategically left in the living room. After this she suddenly realizes that she has a boo-boo that needs attention or some other diversionary tactic. If I’m lucky I only have to go back to her room once because she is upset about something or other.

It takes a while, but eventually Dad breaks the filibuster. 

I’m just glad the nine-month-old Jedi hasn’t figured out this scam.

Yet.