Tonight Joey is maintaining a constant din. The noise was in progress when I got home in the early afternoon. Melissa must have endured it all morning.
He’s pulling out all the stops. Repetitive phrases, song lyrics, movie lines, thumping his chest with his hand, combinations of words and thumps, cranking up the volume on YouTubes; if it makes noise, he’s all about it.
I think he might be stressing about his brother’s move to the East Coast. Joey said, “Tim will be home soon” a couple of times today, and he wasn’t happy with my “Tim is going to his new house” response. So that might be why Joey, who’s been fed, medicated and bathed, is wide awake and making constant racket.
I won’t lie to you. My temper is now on edge. This racket is close to torture. It is like having an ache that distracts from and interferes with anything you try to do.
I feel like I’m having holes drilled into my head. Except that procedure is supposed to relieve pressure and reduce pain, not enhance suffering.