A Letter to Pineapple

Dearest Pineapple,

We need to talk.

You know I love to party with you. I adore it, and with your brothers and sister being home on summer break, it's been a big wet towel on our escapades. We really haven't had the time to hang mono e mono. Sweetness, I understand, I do. Trust me, watching Bubble Guppies without you isn't something I would do.

Your plan, elegant in it's simplicity, is why it went so well for the last couple of nights. It was completely brilliant to scream at the top of your lungs at 3 am, because you knew I'd come to you. Your cheerful "Hi!" and wave as I opened your door... I tip my hat to you ma'am because you know that when you scream like someone is trying to kill you, that I will be there within seconds... and I always will be.

Pineapple, it has to stop. It's not that I don't enjoy the 3 to 4 hours of being exhausted to the point that I can feel a migraine tickling the back of my brain with just you. It's fantastic that you are wound up, wanting to sing and dance and yell at me if I close my eyes for longer than a simple blink. There is nothing I love more than to have cheerios shoved into my mouth (or nose, or ears) cuddle you.

We need to stop getting together in the middle of the night like this. For the love of Maude it needs to stop. You will thank me for this one day, maybe not tonight, as I rub your back and tell you to go back to sleep, maybe not tomorrow, when you are mad at me and give me the attitude that only a budding 2 year old is capable of... but probably the day after when you don't take a 5 hour nap and will actually be awake in the afternoon we are cuddled up on the couch watching none other than the Bubble Guppies.