It is 5:45 AM when he appears at my side of the bed, a troll-shaped shadow with his arms full of Beanie Babies.
"Mama?" (This in a stage whisper.)
"Did you have a bad dream?"
"No."
"Are you sick?"
"No."
My brain slips and slides on its track, still trying to rise up out of a thick, gooey dream. I consider problem-solving a little more, but at this point in my sleep cycle I just want the fastest route back to my pillow.
"Um. Okay, Buddy. You can stay, but it is still sleep time."
"Okay!" he agrees. The sheer enthusiasm and cheerfulness of his response at this wee hour should have clued me in.
For the next forty five minutes he wiggles. He hums. Once we bonk heads like two of the Three Stooges when he tries to peer into my face and figure out if my eyes are open in the dark. A menagerie of stuffed animals bounce on the comforter like it is a trampoline at a birthday party. Periodically I rise to consciousness enough to consider ordering him back to his own bed. Somehow sensing my dangerous thoughts, he'd snuggle against me completely still for a few moments, warm and soft and smelling faintly like baby shampoo.
"Mama?"
"Mmm hmm?"
"I love you!"
Of course he can stay. Then two minutes later a mini foam football goes whizzing past my nose.
At six-thirty I give up and roll over, look up at the ceiling. I realize I've been dozing with said foam football wedged against my cheek. In mere seconds Eli sees my eyes are open and attacks, draping himself across me and whispering those three little words in my ear: "Oh, Mama? Pancakes!"
I reach over to rub the top of his head but stop cold. His head feels strange. Lumpy. My heart skips a beat. Lice! Vermin on my child and snuggled into our bed! But, thank God, no. It is just sand. My child's scalp is full of sand from yesterday at the school playground. In the busy fun of going to a homecoming parade last night we never noticed the sand and got back too late for his usual bath.
Upon sitting up, I realized that my bed feels strange too. More sand. It is completely gritty -- even my pillow.
"Eli, did you abandon your bed because it was too gritty?"
"Yeah."
"Do you think maybe you should have told me about the sand?"
"Why?"
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