Pillow Confessions

Daddy had taken Micah upstairs to get ready for bed.  As I was cleaning up the remains of the whirling dervish that we call our son, I heard things like, "Go potty," and, "put your pajamas on," and, "lay down, Micah." I could tell by the tone of voice that I was hearing that our boy was swinging from the last available nerve left in that day. I figured I'd better head upstairs to help out before someone's nerve snapped. On the way uptairs I heard things like, "Micah, lay down," and, "Micah, lay down," and, "Micah, lay your head down!"

I'm not sure why I thought I'd be good in the reinforcement department, because by the time Micah's bedtime rolls around my last nerve is shredded into tatters. I braced myself for a battle royale since apparently the boy was not going down without fighting sleep off as long as he could. As I walked into the bedroom, Micah saw me as a perfect opportunity to stay up a little later.

"UM!"

"Hi, Micah. You need to lay down and go to sleep. Move over and let Mommy sit with you." I was focused on Micah as I walked in, and the room was rather dark, so I didn't notice immediately that the sheer scarves framing the window were hanging sadly from one side of the window and puddling onto the floor.

Micah wiggled down between the covers and took my pillow.

"What the heck happened to the curtains?!" I so calmly asked.

Micah sat up and looked at the curtains.

"I wondered that myself," Sam answered. "Looks like someone was hanging from them."

Micah wiggled out from under the covers. "Lay down, Micah. You need to go to sleep," I reminded him. "Who the heck would have done that?" I asked nobody, rhetorically.

Micah tapped my arm. "What, Micah!" I was a bit exasperated.

"Uke." And he laid his head on my arm to go to sleep.

Little tattle tale. It was probably Micah all along, swinging like a monkey, but if he told me it was Luke while snuggling with me, he wouldn't get in trouble. The boy is good.