For the first time since she was a little, little girl, Chloe came into our bed last night after our new dehumidifer in the basement, which works well but is too noisy, woke her from her slumber and freaked her out just a little bit. Which I totally understand, because we’re hamster-sitting this week and boy does he make a hell of a lot of noise at night, which freaks me out. Especially at 3:30 AM, which is prime time for ghouls, goblins and other fantastical things that go bump in the night.
It was pitch dark and I thought at first that Sophie was coming for one of her periodic visits. But the footsteps were too heavy for an almost 6-year old and before I knew it, there was a lot less room in my bed. And although I was apparently willing to let her share our mattress, I was less than willing to share our blanket. Which resulted in a shorter visit than I would have liked, considering that this was the first time she had graced us with her nighttime presence since she was about 4 years old.
The rarity of such nocturnal visits likely means that this won’t happen again anytime soon. Which is why I am writing about it. So that I can remember it after she gets married or has kids of her own. And Chloe, if you’d like to come visit again, please know that you’ll be welcomed with open arms (but maybe not a blanket).