With apologies to Edgar Allan Poe.
Once upon a midnight dreary,
While I slumbered, weak and weary,
In a cozy townhouse
In the suburbs of Cleveland,
While I dozed off, nearly snoring,
Suddenly there came a roaring
From the baby monitor
That lay on my nightstand.
“’Tis just the wind,” I murmured then,
“That howls like the damned.”
And quoth the baby: “Waah. Waah. Waah.”
Quietly, so quietly,
My eyes flew open, wildly.
I prayed that my young child, he
Did not need a helping hand.
I did not want to rouse, you see…
(The clock had just struck twelve, you see.)
And still I hoped that I’d receive
The REM sleep I had planned.
“’Tis just a rainstorm,” I demurred.
“There’s no reason to stand.”
And quoth the baby: “Waah. Waah. Waah.”