I was pretty tired that morning. Hadn’t been able to sleep well. Mentally brought the hospital home with me and worried about what I’d missed. I was standing at the mirror brushing my hair and trying to make myself presentable when my toddler son came in to talk to me.
He had a delicious lisp. This got much worse when he was in a hurry to share something extremely important, like now. Even though he was lisping badly, this morning I had no trouble understanding what he was saying.
And I wasn’t happy.
“Me sawed a movie,” he said in his sing-song soprano.
I groaned inwardly. Great. The kid’s getting up in the middle of the night. Now how am I going to monitor that? I sleep little enough as it is. Besides, if he’s getting up, who knows what else he’s doing? And that TV is really heavy. What if he pulled it off on himself? We’ll have to figure out something…
Before I could finish a plan for countering his nocturnal television viewing he spoke again. “Me sawed a scary movie.”
Even worse. Maybe if I just pull the plug. Maybe we’ll have to move the TV out of the living room. We can’t have the little guy terrified…
“And Paulie was in it and I was and Daddy and you. And we were all being hugged. First it was scary. Then it was kind of fun."
My guard slipped. “That sounds really nice,” I said, charmed. A little boy's interpretation of a dream.
Image of toddler with TV by: cirkoglu
Image of monster by: gleighly