Last night you woke up crying and I pulled myself up through several deep layers of sleep to attend to you. You had lost your pacifier. After 1 minute on my hands and knees searching in the dark I remembered the stash of pacifiers on your shelf. Score. Buddy plugged and soothed. Back to bed.
Two hours later you woke up crying again. Cursing under my breath and considering different forms of adhering a paficier to your lips so I could just get some blessed sleep, I stumbled once again into your room. There you were – pacifier in your mouth. Then what…? And the original pacifier in your hand. You placed it in my palm and gestured to the shelf. “Back”. Are you serious? You woke me up in the middle of the night so I could put your pacifier back? Yes. Yes, you did.
I’m all for ‘a place for everything and everything in its place’, but at three o’clock in the morning, the next place I’m considering for your pacifiers is the trash. You have been warned, my friend…