My dog is clearly tying to kill himself.
As I mentioned previously, sometime Saturday evening our dog got into something he shouldn't and spent a good portion of the night begging to go back outside and poo on things. Last night we all tucked ourselves up into bed not too late and hoped for a decent night of sleep without vomit, snot or children wriggling around too much. Sadly my own snot has turned into some sort of almost-concrete elastic that has plugged my nose and throat so badly that I kept waking up to hack it out or try and cough it loose. Earlier my dog had been barking at nothing and that had us all awake. After checking that no-one was stealing our car we'd gone back to bed. So I was lying in bed dealing with that and wondering why my daughter can't quite get it into her head that if she comes into our bed in the middle of the night that it is absolutely unacceptable to refuse to use covers.
It's 58 degrees Fahrenheit in my house at night. Which is fine - duvets and whatnot and cool air is healthy. It's 8 degrees outside. But my daughter can't figure out staying under a duvet to keep warm and then fights two diametrically opposed forces. One is trying to stay warm by squashing herself against something else warm - one of her parents. The other is being so cold that her skin starts to itch that she scratches herself - but not being able to do that comfortably whilst covered in a big thick duvet.
Anyway - during all this I hear my dog running around like a twat again and whining. So I glance at the clock and, lo and behold it's Shit O'Clock. It's no longer called two am - it's now the time the dog desperately needs to go out. I wandered down - let him out and waited for him to come back in. Ten minutes later we both went back to bed. Ten minutes after that more running around and whining. So I got up to kick him out again and saw him doing the same scooting around crapping that he did the night before. Which was weird because he'd been fine all day. I knew then he'd be in and out for a good hour so clicked the light on and figured I'd go through my daughter's photos from the day before. Which was when I saw the mess of chocolate foil wrappings all over the living room floor. The silly pillock had got into a bag of Hershey's Kisses and eaten them until he'd already puked that up by reflex onto the floor. There was another one by the front door. So I cleaned that up and accepted being awake from then on.
Now I'm sitting here in the cold while the cat whines in the kitchen and the dog is begging to go back up to bed. I can't let him because he's thrown up again twice since then. He's been back out by request more times than that. And it's now 5am and inevitably my son has just come down here with me and asking me to push his trains about with him. At least I get to put the heating on now.