So we bought Rowen an alarm clock.
But somehow at 6:30 EVERY MORNING she decides it’s “wake-up time” and heads over to knock on our door.
Jared went to find her one.
They brought home this (more proof that one small girl has a daddy wrapped around her finger):
Complete with buttons shaped like oil barrels and Mater’s authentic hillbilly voice saying such phrases as, “I don’t know abahut yeew, but this heere’s erly.” And “Wake uhhhp, sleepahead.” She knows how to pick ‘em.
But Jared pointed out to Rowen that the numbers on the clock MEAN something. He showed her the 7. He said, when this first number is a 7, THEN it’s time for wake-up.
Amazingly? She learned it. I can sometimes hear her playing in her room, reading herself stories, singing a song, and then I hear the muffled sound, getting louder as she approaches our door, “Daddy! My Mater clock says seven! My Mater clock say seven!”
Yesterday we were getting ready to go down for naps, and Rowen was washing her hands. I said, it’s time for naps now. Rowen said, “But my clock says 7!” (somehow, Mater got messed up - the fancy oil-barrel buttons along the side are WAY too tempting for small fingers), and she was right. Mater did say 7. He had gotten STUCK at wake-up time.
Now it came time to explain that sometimes clocks don’t read the right time, and that really it was 1:15 in the afternoon. Not 7.
“But my clock says 7!”
I say again, sometimes our clocks don’t say the right time, because it isn’t 7 right now.
I got The Look.
So I go in and fiddle with some of the oil barrels (having considered reading the directions for how to set a hillbilly truck alarm clock rather beneath me), and get him set to something that was very like 1:15.
Mater, of course, had the last word. His alarm must have gotten set somehow (I can’t IMAGINE how this happened…), because he started chattering away at 1:30 right as Rowen was falling asleep (“Wake uuuuhp, sleepahead!! Wake uuuhp, sleepahead!”).
Having still never read the directions for how to turn the thing off, I was desperate. I unplugged the Mater.
I plugged him back in, and he quieted down, and so did Rowen.
Mater gets his retribution.
He started chattering away again, louder than ever, (“Wake uuuuhhhp, sleepahead!”) and Rowen was awake.
I seriously considered making the Mater alarm clock a backyard lawn ornament - from the 2nd story window.
But all was well when Jared came home, disabled the alarm, re-set the time, and again this morning we heard, like a siren approaching, “Mama! Daddy! My clock says 7! My clock says 7!”