I take a deep breath in as I close the door behind me.
Quietly, slowly, I release the door knob and feel it catch. I exhale as I tip-toe down the dark hallway. I can feel the tension in my muscles start to relax. With a growing confidence, I bound down the stairs, into the tranquility of the family room. I pause for a moment, taking in the sweet sounds of . . . nothing. I smile to myself. Finally, some much needed peace and qu-
I must not have heard the door open, or the pitter-patter of little feet coming down the stairs. I did not, and could not, however, miss the shrill sound of my youngest daughter, as her frantic call pierced the evening air.
For a moment, I try to ignore it, hoping maybe it will go away . . . but it never does. Not last night. Not the night before that. Certainly, not the two other times this scene had already played out this very evening.
I feel the tension slowly crawling up my back and into my neck. I turn slowly, and smile an exasperated smile. “Yes, dear, ” I mumble through clenched teeth.
“I DON”T HAVE MY SNUGGIE!!!” Her eyes swell with tears. To a three-year-old, this is a real tradgedy.
With that, I scan the room frantically, until my eyes lock on the pink, fuzzy, frilly, shimmery, rose-adorned pile of fabric massed unassumingly in the corner. In one fell swoop, I leap across the room, seize the blankie, scoop up the teary-eyed toddler and carry the dramatic duo back into the bedroom.
With snuggie tightly in her grasp, she curls up and finds a comfy position on the mattress while I tuck the blanket firmly around her. I kiss her on the forehead, as the whimpers fade. I head for the exit.
I take a deep breath in as I close the door behind me. It’s like déjà vu . . . all over again. [Read more…]