A Bad Dream

Mikey had a nightmare this morning. He’s had nightmares before which woke him up and made him scream or cry, and sometimes required him to run to our bed in the middle of the night, but this is the first time he articulated what scary thing had happened to him.

“Papa! Papa!” Mikey called. Papa is Ian. I don’t take it personally anytime Mikey calls for Papa instead of me, Daddy. I’m mature that way.

“What is it?” Ian asked him. “Honey, Papa’s here.”

“No!” Mikey was still asleep and screaming. “Papa ate my foot!”

With that, Mikey fell back asleep. Ian and I slept for a while ourselves, and then started getting dressed. Mikey is starting preschool next month and we talked about Ian taking him there this morning, for a special event where they’re bringing in sea creatures for the children to see. Then I couldn’t take it anymore, and started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“’Papa ate my foot!’” I said.

“You’re mean.”

“If I’m so mean, how come you were the one eating his foot, hmm?”

Like I said, I’m mature that way.