Last night, at 2 a.m., I awoke to a little elf with big hair sleeping in my bed. I vaguely recall the little patter of feet circling to the far side of my bed, then this warm body snuggled up spoon-style, his little 'fro tickling my nose, never making a peep.
So what, you ask? You see, this 18-month-old, who's still getting steady on his feet, BUSTED out of his bed without making a sound, found his way in pitch black to my bed without tripping, falling or stubbing his toe. He never uttered a word, just climbed in like it was what he'd done every night before.
I couldn't resist letting him stay, even though I find it very hard to get enough sleep with someone's feet across my neck. I fear I may have crossed a line I can't uncross. We'll see what happens tonight, but we're now shopping for a crib tent. It's like a mosquito net, but it keeps elves in rather than mosquitos out.
