The Best Laid Plans of Commitment and Clown Fish

EHHH---EHHH---EHHH---EHHH---EHHH ---Wham.
4:00am - Oh no...Not a chance Nemo.
 
EHHH---EHHH---EHHH---EHHH---EHHH ---Wham.
4:09am - Listen you smug little Clown Fish - I said, "NO!"

EHHH---EHHH---EHHH---EHHH---EHHH ---Wham.
4:18am - 4:27am - 4:36am

For the entirety of the four o'clock hour I continue to deliver blows to the head of the friendly little fish perched on the night stand, making a mental note that we need a grown up alarm clock. 

I have a cloudy recollection of a woman who intended to run 4 miles in the morning.  I can vaguely picture her carefully laying out her running clothes and sneakers. 

That woman set this alarm.  Fool.

You see, as a result of my new late night coffee habit and my current obsession with writing, I accidentally stayed up until midnight.  This would probably not have been a problem except that we had a thunderstorm of epic proportions hit the area last night.  With each booming thunderclap and subsequent series of lightening flashes my mind began to race, anxiety creeping in from all sides. 

What about the scarecrows that we had spent so much time arranging, would they be ruined?  Would this be the storm that finally caused a leak in our roof?  We have no emergency fund, we don't make enough money, how can we afford to pay for the repairs??? What if, what if, what if?

It was this thunderstorm that prompted a certain curly blond beauty to quietly pack up her favorite things, including her brand new "Pillow Pet" and "Princess Belle Doll" and of course, "blankie" and head over to Mommy & Daddy's room. 

Maybe she was worried about the roof repairs too.

This may not seem so remarkable except that we were unaware that she could open the bedroom door until last night.

So, when I heard the familiar click of a door opening down the hallway, I looked to the doorway and waited to see whose silhouette would appear, Tall Boy or Skinny Man?

Imagine my surprise when I saw it was my two-year old, with all of her lovies, calmly walking to our room.  She crossed the threshold and without hesitation hurled each of her guys into our bed and then climbed in herself. 

There was no discussion, no tears, just a very willful little lady who had decided she was not going to be sleeping alone this evening. 

I wanted to laugh out loud but instead I just snuggled my baby girl and listened to the storm rage on outside.
 
She may have been seeking comfort from the storm, but it seems to me, as I fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep that it worked out the other way around.