Daddy’s been out of town on business for three nights. My son has been cranky for three nights. Mommy is tired. Son has had a double ear infection and now has an infected throat. One more night alone. Only one more night.
It’s bedtime and he asks to sleep in Daddy’s bed. This is normally not allowed in our house, but I’m tired and he’s not feeling well. Plus, there’s extra room on Daddy’s side of the bed. I relent, for tonight.
He falls asleep and I retreat to the living room to watch some TV. I go to bed a few hours later and quickly fall asleep.
“Where’s my school bus?”
“Are you kidding me?” I think, but don’t say.
It’s pitch black in the house, yet I get out of bed to search for his little Hasbro yellow school bus.
Living room: nothing.
His bedroom: nothing.
Back to living room: nothing.
It’s 2:00 a.m.! What am I doing?
I go back to my bedroom, handing him his little blue helicopter instead.
“I don’t like helicopter,” he says through his grogginess.
“GREAT! Are you kidding me?” Again, I only think it.
“I don’t know where the school bus is,” I try.
Then, leaning over, I see it — it’s in the bed with us.
Are you kidding me?!
“Here’s the school bus!” I say, “Now go back to sleep.”
He snuggles closer, almost on top of me, resting his head on my pillow. We’re check-to-cheek; he falls asleep.
It’s 2:00 a.m. and I’m with an angel … no kidding.
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