Momnesia

It's the Fall That Gets You Every Time

From a certain position on our couch, I can see Emerson's bed quite clearly. So it was that I was sitting in that spot with a book the other night, when Emmie thrashed around in her sleep, trying to find a comfortable position.

A few moments later, a pink-quilted lump slid off the bed, out of view, onto the floor.

"Eeeeeeeeeeh!" I heard her revving up her whine motor. But then, abruptly, she ceased, and heaved a man-sized sigh.

"Oh, barnacles!"

A cloud of blonde curls rose from behind the bed, trailing a blanket, as she flopped back on the bed, face-first. She shot me a sleepy grin. I grinned back, hardly containing what I felt was very un-parental amusement.

"I fall off da bed," she said, as wryly as a 4-year-old can manage. "But I'm okay."

And she slept.

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