Early one morning, I checked on my sleeping little girl. Living in a new house had presented some serious adjustment issues to Janae with both her bed and her new room. More than once she had gotten up and wandered around in the dark during the night. Not a good thing when you're two and like to have free time alone to do your own thing.
Not only that but there is something in this house that secretly takes our belongings. We are missing many important items right now. Things like sandals that were always being worn, a wire Kitchen Aid mixer beater and an important roll of contact paper that was just right there a day ago. Not to mention several other things as well. I feel like I have to hold on to everything today so I don't lose it tomorrow.
So, I try to keep good track of the kids all the time. Wouldn't want them to be taken too; I don't have time to look for anymore missing stuff.
Bright and early, I looked in her room and this is what I found:
My heart sank. Now I'd have to spend the better part of the morning looking for a missing child thanks to a house that secretly sneaks my belongings.
But hope was sparked when I could hear a deep and restful breathing sound coming from the vicinity of the bed. I know my daughter is an angel (at times) so I blinked a few times in the early morning dew just to make sure she wasn't on the bed and I had just missed seeing her. She really wasn't there -- body, soul or spirit.
So I began my search. And there she was: under the bed.
I covered her up, grateful she was not only found but was still restfully sleeping. To follow the proverbial law, "finders keepers, losers weepers," I was glad I could legally say that she's still mine.
But, why would you escape the warmth and comfort of a snug little bed and lay on hard, grey carpet? Only Janae.