This morning at 4 a.m. I awoke abruptly to hysterical cries coming from Gracen’s room. Though it happens rarely, if I do hear her during the night, I give her a bit of time to resettle and she does, but this was a different sort of cry. It was panicked. I scrambled out of bed to see what was wrong, and as soon as I neared her bed, she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulled me close, and said “Mama!” in a tone that was both desperate and relieved. I cuddled in beside her and asked her what she was sad about…
Gracen: I’m sad about my pink hat.
Mama: Your pink hat? Which one?
Gracen: Ya. The stripy one.
Mama: (not knowing which hat she was talking about) Why are you sad about your pink hat, love?
Gracen: Because it got flushed down the toilet! (hysterical crying ensued)
After she’d calmed a little, I explained that no hats had been flushed down the toilet and that I thought she had been dreaming. A brief explanation of dreaming later, my little lady, satisfied with my explanation, snuggled into me, her little feet curled up in the palm of my hand, and we both fell back asleep.
The look on her face was priceless a few hours later when she found me sleeping next to her in her bed, but no questions were asked as to why I was there. We got up, started our day as we always do, and about an hour or so later, in the middle of a story book, she turned to me and very seriously said, “I have to check something.” She disappeared into the hallway and returned wearing the hat in the photos above. “It’s still here!” she said. “It no get flushed down the toilet! Yaaaaaaaay!” She had remembered.
And for the rest of the day, she wore her pink “stripy” hat…