The light of the silvery moon peeked through my window, casting a soft glow on my inert body. I was lying in bed, deeply asleep, when an annoying noise crept into my consciousness and infiltrated my dreams. One minute I was relaxing on the pink sand of Bermuda soaking up the sun, and the next, three miniature vampires were latching onto my neck and sucking out my blood.
The life was slowly draining from my body when the escalating ruckus jarred me awake. There were intruders banging on my bedroom door, and they seemed desperate to get in. As my adrenaline began to soar, I noticed there was a man laying next to me and he seemed to be oblivious to the noise. He was snoring softly as if he didn’t have a care in the world. In my sleep deprived state, I stared at him wondering who he was, until suddenly I recalled a vow. “For better or worse, till death do us part.” I kicked the vow maker in the shins and yelled, “For God’s sakes, wake up. People are trying to break into our bedroom.”
He turned to me, and I grumbled, “I think it might be your children.”
The man rolled over sleepily, “I have no children. Good night.”
I glanced at the clock and gasped. It was five o’clock in the morning. Somewhere in the recesses of my groggy mind was the memory of cleaning up vomit at midnight, and it made me gag. “This can’t be happening,” I groaned as I buried myself under the blanket and pressed my hands over my ears. But the noise kept getting louder until one of the intruders began yelling, “Mommy, let us in.”
I looked at the vow maker with a sneer and kicked him until he was wide awake. “Oh, they’re your children,” I said. “They’re exactly like you.” The man smiled at what he perceived to be a compliment, and sighed, “Okay.”
He got up, opened the door, and three tiny bodies propelled themselves at me as if being shot out of a cannon. One of them landed squarely on my chest, knocking the wind out of me.
I looked to the man for help, but the traitor was gone. I could hear him slamming the door to the guest room and my fists clenched as I pictured him sliding blissfully back into sleep.
With a grunt, I rolled the body off my chest and the three trespassers pulled me into a huddle as if we were in a football game. Then the littlest one looked at me with her big, sad eyes and said, “We heard a funny noise, Mommy. Can we sleep here?”
I was exhausted, uncomfortable and suffocating from the heat, so I moaned, “Please just go back to bed. To which they responded, “We love you, Mommy.”
I glared at the little manipulators, tucked them into my bed and whispered, “I love you too.”
The life was slowly draining from my body when the escalating ruckus jarred me awake. There were intruders banging on my bedroom door, and they seemed desperate to get in. As my adrenaline began to soar, I noticed there was a man laying next to me and he seemed to be oblivious to the noise. He was snoring softly as if he didn’t have a care in the world. In my sleep deprived state, I stared at him wondering who he was, until suddenly I recalled a vow. “For better or worse, till death do us part.” I kicked the vow maker in the shins and yelled, “For God’s sakes, wake up. People are trying to break into our bedroom.”
He turned to me, and I grumbled, “I think it might be your children.”
The man rolled over sleepily, “I have no children. Good night.”
I glanced at the clock and gasped. It was five o’clock in the morning. Somewhere in the recesses of my groggy mind was the memory of cleaning up vomit at midnight, and it made me gag. “This can’t be happening,” I groaned as I buried myself under the blanket and pressed my hands over my ears. But the noise kept getting louder until one of the intruders began yelling, “Mommy, let us in.”
I looked at the vow maker with a sneer and kicked him until he was wide awake. “Oh, they’re your children,” I said. “They’re exactly like you.” The man smiled at what he perceived to be a compliment, and sighed, “Okay.”
He got up, opened the door, and three tiny bodies propelled themselves at me as if being shot out of a cannon. One of them landed squarely on my chest, knocking the wind out of me.
I looked to the man for help, but the traitor was gone. I could hear him slamming the door to the guest room and my fists clenched as I pictured him sliding blissfully back into sleep.
With a grunt, I rolled the body off my chest and the three trespassers pulled me into a huddle as if we were in a football game. Then the littlest one looked at me with her big, sad eyes and said, “We heard a funny noise, Mommy. Can we sleep here?”
I was exhausted, uncomfortable and suffocating from the heat, so I moaned, “Please just go back to bed. To which they responded, “We love you, Mommy.”
I glared at the little manipulators, tucked them into my bed and whispered, “I love you too.”
