Little Sleepers

Last night, as I was sitting next to Maggie's bed, tickling her palms and waiting for her to fall back to sleep, I started to think about what a blessing it will be that she is such a light sleeper. For instance, should our home come under attack by a pack of very stealthy ninjas, Maggie will be the first line of defense with her inability to sleep through the faintest of noises.  Not that I would expect her to fight ninjas, but surely the sound of a screaming toddler would scare even the bravest of home invaders.

I blew a very quiet air kiss to my guard dog, and tried to sneak out of her bedroom without my ankle cracking. One hour and three attempts later, I finally made it to my own room; where I found a large, snoring sack of preschooler sleeping upside down in our reading chair.

As I grunted to pick up her 50 pound body and lug it into her own bed, I knocked her sweet noggin' on the door frame and tripped over a mess of toys and dirty clothes. As I kissed her emerging goose egg and soft cheeks, I was thankful that she is such a hard sleeper. I snuggled in closer to her to feel her hot breath on my face and to plant subliminal messages in her head.  I whispered in her ear how important her role as a big sister was. That she should watch out for little Maggie in school, at the park, and any other time Mom and Dad weren't around. I told her that when she's old enough for college or to live on her own, that she should talk Maggie into moving in with her. I told her that if she would take Maggie under her wing, Maggie would in turn protect her from home invading ninjas.