What was that? Was that a scream? What time is it? 4:00 a.m. Ugh.
There it is again! That’s Sofia. That is not a normal cry, not at all. My God, is she hurt? Fall out of bed? Bad dream? Bleeding? Abduction? Did we lock the doors? There it is again. Baby, I’m coming!
Jump out of bed.
Oops, that pillow landed on Tony. He won’t notice.
Ouch! Damn slipper.
Ouch! Wretched door.
Storm into child’s room; child is sitting up in bed, wide-eyed, mouth slightly agape.
Sofia, are you OK? Did you have a bad dream?
Child pouts and shakes head no.
Are you hurt? Do you not feel well?
Child scrunches face into a deeper pout and shakes head no.
What is wrong then?
Child sobs a response only her mother could interpret.
Oh. You lost your hair elastic? Yes, I see that. It’s right there next to you on your pillow. Would you like me to put your hair back into a pony tail for you? Ok, then. Are you all set now? Get some sleep.
Stumble back to bed; attempt to breathe deep in order to reverse the organ flip of heart and stomach that feel twisted within the torso beyond repair.
Make a mental note to warn child of impending doom should she ever give her mother a scare like that again.
Listen to husband’s peaceful snoring in a failed attempt to lose consciousness, and just as a fog starts to set over a slowly quieting brain, curse the heavens for the cries that suddenly invade from the OTHER child’s bedroom.