Last week, Little Miss went to bed late after our Hanukkah party. I was frustrated because I hate to get up out of bed when I'm sleeping. Also, I knew Monday morning was going to be challenging because she went to bed late. Husband offered to get up, but she told him she needed me. So, I was ready to sternly tell her to go back to sleep. I went trudging to her bedroom and, when I got there, she was covered in her own blood (well, I like to assume it was her own). I'll give the kid this one. Good call on calling for Mommy.
She stayed pretty calm though her eyes showed a bit of panic. I got her tissues while I stripped the bed and, once she was done with the tissues, we washed her face and hands up and got new pajamas. She went to bed pretty quickly after that, but I left her some extra tissues just in case.
The next day, Husband said he could have helped her, but she told him it was big so she needed Mommy. It's flattering, but I also really love my sleep.
I've never known any trouble that an hour's reading didn't assuage. Charles De Secondat (1689 - 1755)
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