A Tiger in Her Bed...

My mom used to tell us we'd "wrestled with a bear last night" when we woke up with funky hair.

Reagan wrestles with a pink Tiger whose name is Todd. He's pink with pink stripes and just man enough to pull it off without even so much as a smirk from his fellow stuffed animals. No one messes with Todd. He's alpha tiger and he's slept with Reagan since we got home from China. He accompanies us on all overnight excursions and he's trotted about the house on a fairly regular basis as well. He's survived the washing machine and a little spit up. Todd is a stud.

At night we hear Reagan flip over and over and...over. She slams into the rails of her crib. She bonks her head. We find her with feet and arms hanging out between her little jail bars practically every night. She starts at one end and scoots her way to the opposite side, often with her hiney up in the air like a little mound of dirt on the move. She rarely wakes up at night. She just wrestles with Todd in her sleep, I guess. She squeezes him and sucks on his nose a little bit for good measure.

And in the morning her hair looks like she's wrestled with tigers all night.

Which leads me to the question...if we take Todd out of her crib, will she wake up in the same spot, with her hair perfectly in place?