“Mommy? Can I go potty?”
Her voice pulled me out of a deep sleep in the midst of a nightmare about a movie set with Nicole Kidman and a patient who ran a telephone ministry dial-a-prophetess line. The movie was to be a psychological thriller. The prophetess had just robbed me of money and souvenirs I had pilfered from the set. I am not sure what a dream like that says about my life right now…
“Sure, baby. You don’t even have to ask, you know.” I have lost count of how many I times I’ve said this to her.
I heard her skip down the hall to the bathroom. I glanced over at the clock. 3AM. I would have groaned out loud but that would have taken too much energy.
A minute or two later…
“Mommy, I wiped but I didn’t flush because I didn’t want to wake anyone up.”
“Thanks, sweetie. Go on back to bed.”
And I heard her skip back down the hall to her bedroom.
Sleep? For me, it was gone. Just like that I was turned into the early bird. Too bad I don’t like worms.