why my post-call day off is equally exhausting as the call itself

Scene: This morning, post-call, at the crack of dawn.


MACK
(Speaking very, very close, directly into MICHELLE's face)
Mom, want to get up.  Want yogurt and toast.  Get breakfast.

MICHELLE
Hmm?  Snrg?  Mrpgh? (Shakes self awake)
Mack, Mom is sleeping. She worked very late last night.  
Go see if Dad will help you get breakfast.

MACK
No, you.  Want you to get me breakfast.

MICHELLE
Dad can do it.

MACK
No, want Mama.  Need you.  You.  YOU.

MICHELLE
OK, just give me a second...

(Long pause)

(Snoring)

MACK
Mom, get these blankets off!  Off!  Off!  (Pushing blankets off my body.)  
Don't cover your legs!  Don't cover foot!  Get up!

MICHELLE
Mack, Mommy's tired.

MACK
(Insistent)
NO NO NO YOU NOT TIRED.

MICHELLE
Groan.  Fine.  Fine.  I'm up.  I'm... (struggling into sitting position) OK, now I'm up.  
Don't you know Mommy was working late last night?  That Mommy needs to rest, like, occasionally?  
Fine, now what do you want for breakfast?  Toast?  Yogurt?

MACK
Yes.  Also need you change my diaper.

MICHELLE
You're pushing it, kid.

(Fin.)