Last night you woke us up at 4am. I toddled you back to bed, tucked you in, and asked you what was wrong – my first mistake. Just inviting you to speak got you excited and woke you up even more.
“It was the quacking, Mommy!” The what? “I heard quacking!”
And because I forgot in my 4am haze that you don’t fully grasp sarcasm yet, I replied, “Ah yes, because of all the ducks under the stairs.”
“Ducks? We have ducks??” And you attempted to get out of bed to go see them. At 4am. You and the mystery ducks.
“No, sweetie, there are no ducks. Mommy was kidding. Lay back down. I think it was probably the puppy, honey. A bark can sound like a quack, right?”
“Yes, Mommy, it was probably the puppy. Or my tummy, Mommy. I think it was my tummy because I’m soooo hungry. I think my tummy was quacking for a snack” Not even going there, kid. Nice try.
“In the morning, sweetie. Breakfast in the morning. No more quacking. Time for sleep.” And just like that you rolled over and closed your eyes.
I did not even bother to check why the puppy was
quacking barking. I went right back to my bed and dreamed of ducks running rough-shod over the furniture.