Jeffrey is still my little snuggle bug and as many times as he can, he will claim our bed as his as well. During the week, we are diligent about him staying tucked into his own bed where he was kissed goodnight, and he will protest, but eventually give up. But having our sleep compromised during the weekend will not have a huge negative impact on us, so we don't object when he comes downstairs to be tucked into our bed again.
He did this last night, of course, and I was too tired to argue and decided to call it a day myself. So into my bed he climbs and settles, unaware that at some point, he will be carried upstairs to his crib before the night is over. Lights out, and except for the quiet background noise of the TV in the living room where G is, the lull and hum of the house surrounds us with the darkness.
"Seekit?" Jeffrey asks me. "Seekit?"
"No," I tell him. "You can tell me a secret in the morning. Time to go to sleep."
"Seekit, Mama. Seekit?" He is undeterred and won't take 'no' for an answer.
"Jeffrey, go to sleep. No secrets."
He raises his voice a little. "SEEkit? SEEkit, Mama?"
"Sure, okay. Secret," I concede. Might as well get this over with so we can get on to sleeping.
He puts his hands on my head and turns it so the ear not closest to him now is, while scootching closer to be able to whisper. It is a secret, after all. Secrets are meant to be whispered, right?
"Ssssts," he whispers to me.
"Oh, that's a nice secret," I say. "I won't tell anybody. Goodnight."
"Seekit?" he asks me again. "Mama, seekit?"
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