The Sleepolympics or How We Got to Australia Part II

So.  Tin can.  Monkeys.  Methamphetamines.  That's where we were, I think.

We all had our own ways of coping with the monkeys.  I spent most of my time pretending that I was the father of the children across the aisle.  Amy spent most of her time pretending the same thing and feeling sorry for those children.  Tessa spent most of her time doing what she always does.  Talking and seeking out any device that runs on electricity.

Lily adopted a different approach.

Lily is a force of nature when it comes to sleeping - a narcoleptic savant who can lose consciousness on command.  Anywhere, anytime, any position, from mid Pacific to mid sentence.  As she contorted herself into an uncomfortable space that made my back hurt, a thought occurred to me.  Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, maybe it was second hand exposure to Tom and Jerry cartoons, maybe it was the oxycodone Amy slipped into my wine - but I thought "she has the potential to go pro.  Who knows, even an olympian.  A sleepolympian."  

If you think I'm way out there, spend just a moment thinking about the strange olympic events past and present.  The following are or were REAL events.  There's everyone's favorite whipping boy - curling - which basically exists because three Canadian janitors had a free night, a case of beer, four brooms and a frozen cow pie (I refuse to acknowledge that the Scots had anything to do with curling).  Race walking?  Just commit, dammit!  Live pigeon shooting?  An indulgence of the ornithophobics.  And of course, Solo Synchronized Swimming, which makes no sense unless you are synchronizing multiple personalities - in which case it's impressive but boring to watch.  Trust me, in 2020, our nation is going to spend some serious time watching my daughter nap.  The award ceremony could be a bit tedious.

Here are some of Lily's best routines, in no particular order.

Evening Salutation

Downward Sleeping Dog

The Wilted Lotus Pose

I was going to call the one below the Elegant Corpse Pose, but it freaked Amy out.  She said, "You can't call our daughter a corpse!  What's wrong with you?  Why can't you write something happy?  What happened to you when you were a child?  Can't we go back to pretending that you're the father of the family across the aisle?"

Yes.  Yes we can.

The Wilted Corpse Pose

Lily also explored the possibility of competing in a doubles tournament.  However, her partner was an amateur and his poor form torpedoed their chances at gold.

To recap, one hour drive to Portland, two hour bus trip to Boston, three hour wait, six hour flight to San Francisco, two hour layover, twelve hour flight to Auckland, two hour layover, five hour flight to Adelaide, and thirty minute drive to Glenelg.  31 hours into our journey, Lily stretched and yawned and said something like "We're almost there?  That wasn't so bad."