A Misspent Afternoon

The rain hit and rolled off the roof of the old house, in a way that always made him drowsy. Jim was always in the mood for a nap, but when he indulged, things inevitably went wrong. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier with each rat-a-tat of the steadily falling rain. In the next room, his two toddlers squabbled over the small stack of blocks between them.
“Mine!”
“No, mine!”
Back and forth, back and forth.
Jim figured that the two and three year olds would probably play together well enough, and there was probably nothing in the house that would hurt them. “What could it hurt? Just a few minutes,” Jim thought.
He knew his wife would be at least disappointed, probably angry, and likely, would result in a night spent on the couch. Still he reasoned, wondered.
The drumming on the old tin roof continued, a soothing sound really. A comforting sound, reminiscent of his childhood spent in an old farmhouse.
Eyes closing, each time taking more effort to open, each time, heavier, heavier.
“Kids’ll be awright, the older one should be able to handle it,” Jim muttered.
On the floor in front of him the toddlers sat playing. Their diapers were swollen, filled to the bands with an unwanted present for mom upon her arrival.
“I have a feeling I’m going to regret this,” though Jim, as he drifted off into oblivion.
Four hours later, Nancy opened the door, entered the living room, and let off a soul-shattering scream, “Jim, you are dead!”
“What’d I do?” Jim grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
When the lights went out that night, the little ones were snug in the bed, clean diapers, with mom, and dad, poor soul, slept not on the couch, but on the floor, amidst cookies and poo….