safety first

Gideon James, sometimes it makes bedtime a little smoother if I read outside your bedroom in the yellow rocking chair.  I close your door, but you know I’m there and sleep usually comes within minutes.

Last week, sleep was a bit out of reach.  You got up and peeked out your door once, twice, three times to make sure I was there and all was right with the world. After the third time, I rather sternly warned you that another ‘peek’ would result in a spankin.’ You replied with your classic compliant, “Yeah.” and scurried back under the covers.

There was much clatter and bumping and shuffling in that dark room, and I was so sad.  I was so sad, Son, because I knew the consequences were coming.  Personally, I hate consequences.  I hate giving them as much as I hate receiving them. It’s an un-awesome part of parenting.

When your door creaked open, I was waiting for you.  When your raspy little voice called out for me, I answered a bit tensely.  When your superman-pj’ed body swung around the door frame and revealed a super hero wearing your father’s motorcycle helmet…

well, I kind of forgot why I was preparing to consequence and started shaking with silent laughter.

Gus.  Where did you find the helmet?  When did you hide it?  How did you find it and put it on in the dark?  Why at that moment? How did your 32-pound body support the weight of the extra 10 pounds on your head without falling over? Why do these things happen when your dad has a late meeting?

So many questions, Gideon.  So many questions.

I took the helmet off, gave you a kiss, and set the thing next to your bed for you as you happily tucked yourself back in (again) and fell asleep.  The next morning, you came to breakfast carrying the helmet.  I ran your bath and watched as you carefully undressed and then put the helmet on before entering the tub.

I wish every person in the whole wide world could know you.

You’re going to be famous one day, Gus Man.  We’re not sure what for, exactly, but you’re gonna be famous.

I love you.

Mom

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