“Time to go to sleep,” I called down to the rear of the bus.
With the older three kids away for the night – a couple sleeping over at their cousin’s place and one with my parents – Miss4 and Miss7 had hunkered down in Cloudland (our bed) for shits and giggles.
“But Daddy,” Miss4 called back, “I’m by myself.”
“Where’s your sister?” I wanted to know.
When I’m sitting at our office my chair juts out and blocks the aisle, so there was no way she’d snuck past me.
“Inside with Mummy,” said Miss4, proving me wrong.
“Why is she in there?”
“She had a sore ear.”
That did sound vaguely familiar, and when I thought about it there was definitely a marked reduction in crying on the bus. It also explained why Tracey wasn’t dealing with this.
“Well, you can still lie down and go to sleep,” I told my youngest daughter.
“No,” she countered. “I think I’ll go inside too.”
When she threw her legs over the side of the bed to climb down I sighed heavily, because knew I’d have to do something drastic.
I stood up.
“How about if I give you a huggle and tuck you in?” I said, walking back to her.
As I approached she spun back onto the bed and threw the doona over her head.
So that’s the game we’re going to play, I thought to myself.
“Where’s my girl?” I said loudly. “Where’d she go? I thought she was in the bed.” I gave her a little tickle through the doona and she giggled. “Is that you? Are you in there?”
“No!” came a slightly muffled squeal.
“I think you are,” I said, taking hold of the edge of the doona dangling over the side of the bed and then quickly lifting it up and shoving my head under with her. Our eyes met and I asked, “What are you doing under here?”
“I’m smelling my fart,” she grinned at me.
Regrettably, that made two of us.
Raising a family on little more than laughs