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Who’s that knocking at your window?

E has developed a kind of habit of sleeping in my bed every second or third night. She’s not terrible to sleep with and if it’s just me and her (Andy on couch thanks to snoring) there is enough room, but I still don’t want it to become a regular thing. She always manages to take up two thirds of the bed even though she is much smaller than me and when there is three of us in there it’s just too crowded. What can I say? I like my space when I sleep.

I find it hard to turn her away for a couple of reasons: One, she usually comes in at a very late hour and I’m in no mood to argue with a whiny kid at that point (aka: it’s just easier to say ok). Two, I still have scary dreams and manage to scare the crap out of myself thinking there are vampires at my window and I’m (nearly) 29 years old so how can I blame a four year old for thinking there’s a monster outside her window? I mean seriously, what if there is?* What kind of a mother would I be to leave her with a monster?

I have found that if I have a talk with her at bedtime and ask her to sleep the whole night in her own bed that she actually stays there. Sometimes I forget to do this, though, and it’s almost always the case that on those nights I’ll find her right at my face, waking me up at three a.m.

Thursday night I was feeling pretty sick. I knew I was in for an awful sleep because my throat was swollen and my body temperature couldn’t decide if it wanted to be freezing or boiling and changed every 15 seconds. I asked Andy to sleep on the couch so that I wouldn’t keep him up and so I could have to whole bed to feel miserable in and he agreed. E was having a bad night already and when I went to bed at ten she was still awake. She came in my room about five minutes after I was in bed and asked to sleep with me. This time I said no, and explained to her that I was sick and just needed some space. She begged and pleaded for a minute but I kept telling her no and that’s when she hit me with this little gem complete with sobs and genuine tears rolling down her little cheeks:

“But I just wanted to lay with a friend.”

*heart breaks*

And, of course I said ok. How could I not? Mind you when she tried that line on me again the following night after hearing me relay the story to a couple people and telling them how cute it was? Yeah, then it wasn’t quite so hard to say no. You do have to give the girl credit for trying, though.

*I’m only joking. Well, like 75 % joking. Ok, ok – half. Yes, I’m half joking about monsters at (nearly) 29 years of age. Look, I never said I was rational.


3 Responses

  1. There are definitely still times at (almost) 30 when I have dreams that are scary enough that I’m glad there’s someone to snuggle up to. That said, there really isn’t room for a third in our bed either.

  2. I usually think it’s ghosts and for me, they’re outside the basement door or in the actual basement. I tend to think it’s the man who used to live there but died. m’eh

  3. There’s already a third in our bed. And sometimes even a fourth and fifth. And I swear that somehow they take up as much room as a person would. Each.

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