Every night, Robbie goes to sleep with his light on. He likes to read stories to Baby (his stuffed bat) and Moo (you’ll remember his stuffed giraffe, I’m sure). And, as you can imagine, that requires some lighting. Last night, as usual, I left Robbie in his crib with the light on and went to do some things in my room. On my way back downstairs, Robbie called me into his room and said, “Mama, light. Off. Please.” Surprised, I happily obliged. Robbie said thank you, put his head on his pillow and went to sleep.
This morning, I went in to wake up my cherub at 7:05. I did the same thing I always do: turned on the light, told Robbie it was time to wake up, and walked across his room to start getting his clothes ready. A few seconds later, the lights went off. I cursed under my breath, sure I would have to go down three flights of stairs to flip the breaker.
Turning around to head downstairs, I noticed Robbie at the light switch. He saw me as he dropped back into his bed and said, “Night-night, Mama.” And, with that, he put his head on the pillow, pulled his blanket over his body, and closed his eyes to go back to sleep.
After several attempts – and a few tears – I finally managed to get Robbie up to get dressed for the day. He noticed it was raining and made a beeline for the closet to get his raincoat. While only wearing a diaper. I had to do some fast talking to get him into actual clothes and, somewhere along the line, he informed me that he would put on his rain shirt before wearing his raincoat. Whatever it takes, right? I guess I just have to hope he doesn’t remember that he wears that particular shirt the next time it rains. You know, like tomorrow…