He wakes, fitfully stirring, whimpering in his sleep.




The whimpering escalates, into crying, shattering the peaceful night.
Reaching for me, and screaming his outrage, rubbing his soft cheek against mine. We pace the floor, waiting for Dave to come with the ibuprophen.

Then we rock, Ben and I, in the still of the night. Curled together in the glider, a sheet pulled around us to keep the draft of the air conditioner off us, Rocking, rocking, rocking. Tuneless humming, because it is almost 3 in the morning, and I cannot think of a song to sing to him.

At first, he's alert, laughing at me in the darkness, touching my face, then as he grows sleepy, he's gently bobbing his head against my shoulder, reaching up to caress my cheek. Seeking, seeking until he finds what he's looking for.

And crams his finger so far up my nostril that it still hurts.


Oh man... I hope your nose recovers. Oww.

It is amazing what they can do... *groan* With Elanor it is usually deciding to pinch or when I haven't clipped her nails in 48 hours grab hard. *sigh*
Grampa said…
Just beautifully touching. And we are still laughing at the end.
Anonymous said…
LOVE IT! beautiful little bit of prose with a perfect punch line. HA!

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