Mother!
What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get your hand way from that switch. No doubt you foolishly think that by plunging this room into inky blackness, you will somehow induce slumber. Well, allow me to dispel those foolish notions this instant. It takes more than a fresh diaper and a lack of luminescence to make me drowsy, I can assure you.
How dare you?! I’m not “just cranky” you insolent wench. I’m so sorry if I’m distracting you from your evening’s entertainment, zombified in front of the magic box watching “Cops” or some other insipid dreck. However, that certainly does not justify such a base accusation. Certainly my day was less than pleasant, true. I spent much of the afternoon crafting in painstaking detail a scale replica of Westminster Abbey entirely composed of alpahbet blocks. The structure was architecturally perfect in every detail with the exception of the brightly colored letters and numbers adorning the walls. Alas, my masterpiece was not long for this world thanks to an inauspicious alliance between a marauding band of Power Rangers and a Dancing Elmo. No doubt this terrorist cadre of fanatics was rewarded in paradise with a bevy of Sister’s topless Barbies whilst the last cinders of my imposing sepulchral edifice wafted into the wind.
Be that as it may, I am not cranky, dear mother. I am, however, concerned for my own safety. You know, my personal welfare? The sole reason for your presence on this Earth? Have we forgotten? See that you don’t! Now, must we once again go over the problem we are confronted with nightly? There–the darkness betwixt the floor and the crib? The place where the monsters lurk. Yes, yes, prattle away as much as you’d like, you’re wasting your time.
Imbecile! Of course there are no monsters there now! How is it you’ve managed to survive with only this rudimentary intelligence at your disposal? Obviously, the monsters only exist now as ethereal beings–the mere essence of evil. Once your blundering produces darkness, these forces are summoned into corporeal existence beneath this crib. Rest assured, mother, these creatures are for more destructive than an army of Dancing Elmos.
Very well. Let us dispense with further debate and move to the endgame. We all now the solution. Yes… yes… wind it carefully. Tut tut–all the way. Excellent. Now… activate the rotating Pooh device! Very well, you may now turn off the light switch. Be on your way, mother. You are no longer needed. This room is now lit by the fire within the belly of the rotating Pooh device hanging above the crib. I have no need to fear the monsters now. Spin on, Pooh, and rage, rage against the dying of the light.