© 2019 Aaron Atkinson


Gray had a nasty habit of not staying in her bed at bedtime.

We’d brush her teeth, read her stories, sing her songs, tuck her in, lay with her, kiss her goodnight, and before the door finishes closing, her feet would be on the floor.

After a few weeks of dealing with this frustrating circumstance, we broke down and put the plastic child-proof doorknob locks on her door. It worked like a charm, except that now she can’t get out of bed in the morning, so sweet little Gray let’s us know she’s awake with a picture-on-the-wall-rattling “MOMMY! I’M AWAKE!”

Last Saturday she hollered, I went in, picked her up, and carried her into the hallway. There’s a mirror at the top of the stairs that we look in every morning. She looked at herself and her mass of wayward blonde locks and she exclaimed with a toothy grin and a twinkle in her eye, “Whew! Tangle City!”

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