Bruce gets caught nap­ping The se­cret of my suc­cesszzzz

The Gympie Times - - LIFE - BRUCE DEVEREAUX Learn more about Bruce’s ef­forts to raise his fam­ily on lit­tle more than laughs at big­fam­i­lylit­tlein­

FROM the mo­ment I woke I knew some­thing wasn’t right. “Dad?”





This last ap­peal to me from Miss6 was louder than the pre­vi­ous ones and had man­aged to drag me out of my shal­low slum­ber.

I was nap­ping, you see, be­cause we were in that sweet spot in the late af­ter­noon be­tween hav­ing picked the kids up from school and need­ing to snap at them to come eat din­ner. Tracey had even been the one to sug­gest we lie down to re-en­er­gise our bat­ter­ies.

I don’t know how many ‘dads’ I’d missed prior to these but im­me­di­ately de­cided to draw on years of fa­ther­hood ex­pe­ri­ence and know-how. I lay very, very still.

I gave no in­di­ca­tion I’d heard any­thing. This is my superpower.

Breathe, Bruce, I re­minded my­self. Nice and slow. Keep the rhythm. Eyes rolled back into your skull.

When pre­tend­ing to sleep you can’t look any­where, even un­der your eye­lids, or they can tell be­cause the out­line of your pupils show and they move around. Told you I’m next level good at this.


I waited ea­gerly. This is where Tracey usu­ally loses the game. She’ll toss and grunt in a huffy man­ner, much like she does if I’m hav­ing trou­ble sleep­ing at night so I roll over and ac­ci­den­tally prod her sug­ges­tively in the small of her back.

“Dad!” Some­thing was wrong. We were back to the slightly softer shouts but at a slightly quicker pac­ing. Un­usu­ally, there was no pre­tend dis­turbed sleep move­ment be­side me. “Dad!”

So far I could tell Miss6 hadn’t moved more than a head into our room, although I knew her too well to as­sume this would con­tinue.

She wasn’t about to give up and go away. But any minute now, I told my­self, Tracey would take care of this like she al­ways does.


Slightly shorter pause. “Dad!”

Slightly shorter pause.

It was a bat­tle of wits now. Just me, Tracey and Miss6. Who would be the first to break? My money was on my wife. “Dad!…Dad!…Dad!” Thirty-six times she said my name. Thirty-six! In my mind I could see Tracey ly­ing prone be­side me, eyes squeezed tight with a cheeky grin on her face. Like me, the indig­na­tion at be­ing wo­ken up would have dis­si­pated by now and she’d be lov­ing this and wonde“Daaaaaad!!!”

I had no in­ten­tion of giv­ing up my farce at this late stage of the game but this last dad was screamed into my ear from a dis­tance of her-lips-were­touch­ing-my-lobe.

“What?!” I squawked as I landed with a thump back on my bed. I may have cussed.

I was se­ri­ously peeved I lost the game but credit where credit is due.

Mo­men­tar­ily ig­nor­ing our daugh­ter and rolling onto my side, I de­cided to con­grat­u­late Sleep­ing Beauty on sud­denly de­vel­op­ing steel framed will power and maybe stick a wet fin­ger up her nose.

At which point Miss6 blurted out what she’d been try­ing to get my at­ten­tion to ask – which just so hap­pened to be the same thing which was go­ing through my mind at that ex­act mo­ment.

“Where’s Mum?” Miss6 asked me.

Turns out Tracey had power-napped and long ago tip­toed off to the li­brary with Master13 (be­cause ap­par­ently she’s some sort of su­per­mum).

From the mo­ment I woke I knew some­thing wasn’t quite right…in true Bruce form I was just to­tally wrong about what it was.


Photo: Con­trib­uted

The Devereaux clan are al­ways en­joy­ing a laught.

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