rolaids.

Last night at 208 am, Pratt comes into our room. Wide awake.

He has the following: his blanket. His b. His cow pillow pet. And max's sleep sheep.

He says, "hey momma!" like it's maybe 208 pm in the afternoon.

I think he might have said, "scoot over" or something. Idk. It was early.

I immediately said, "oh no. Lets go back to your room."

He immediately said, "oh no. I'm scared of the thunder."

There was no thunder. That was the night prior. When I informed him of this, he said, "oh. Uh, ok. Then will you sing me sandman five times!?" as he held up his little bitty hand.

So I did. I turned on his lullabies and I sang it six times. And then rubbed his hair until he fell asleep.

The whole thing reminded me of trying to get in my parents bed as a child. I would go in and complain about a tummy ache. Dad would give me a rolaid and send me back to bed.

Years later, we moved that bed and I bet there were 200 rolaids under that bed. Apparently I just tossed them over.




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