Husband was on call last night. At 2:32 this morning, there were ear piercing screams. My eyes flick open.
That'll get you moving, real fast.
Out in the hallway, there she was- clutching her giraffe "innie" (blanket), a heavy feather down, and two friends. The down had pulled the door closed and she could not move forward without having to let it go, which was not going to happen.
Down on my knees, she falls into my lap, openly sobbing.
"Sweet Potato, what's the matter?"
"I just want to get in your bed with your blanket [the white down]."
Normally, this is a hard and fast rule in the Cagle household. The answer is NO. Buttttt, Husband was on call. It was thundering. It was cold in the apartment (we keep it at 63 in the evening). I was a sucker. I had 30 lame excuses why she should get in bed with me- though all I needed was one.
"Well, that's no reason to scream. I already have a white innie on my bed. Grab your friends and let's be on our way."
Poor pitiful eyes look up at me in the dark with tear streaked cheeks and she threw her arms around my neck and said, "Oh, thank you Ma-mee!"
Sucker. Right here.