October 25, 2012 § Leave a comment
Last night on the way home from Wee Praise, I realized Hiram still had a little throw-up on his favorite blanket.
Knowing how ridiculously malicious our most recent stomach bug was, there was no way I was going another night without getting that thing in the wash. The problem? Hiram won’t let it out of his sight, especially at bed time. And so, I stole it from him while he was sleeping.
When I got the idea, I thought it was brilliant. In fact, just before I snatched it out from under Hiram’s heavy, sleepy head, I had convinced myself that this was actually the most humane thing I could do. But then, as I watched the washer start to spin that still-warm blanket, I started to feel dread.
What if he woke up, needed it and noticed it was gone?
Would he get the idea that this might happen more often than he knew?
Would he realize that while he’s asleep, his own mother steals his only sense of security and leaves him to fend for himself against any monster or ghoul that might come his way?
Would he ever be able to fall asleep again?
By the time I was done, I was convinced I had just broken a fundamental law of parenting – the one that says “Don’t steal your kid’s favorite thing when he’s most vulnerable or he will never trust you again.” I was on pins and needles for the full 90 minutes it took to de-barf his ni-night. Every little sound he made, I froze. The guilt rising.
Finally, the cheerful chime. The blanket was done. I ran down, pulled it out of the dryer and put it right back in the same place (and at approximately the same temperature) as when I found it.
I exhaled a sigh of relief and promised myself I would never, ever do that again.
Well, I probably won’t.
But then again, it worked so well.
OK, I might.