I'm a light sleeper. I wake up with the wind, cat fights, Danny's snores, my bladder and the occasional rumble of my tummy. I've been this way since college and motherhood hasn't lessened my nocturnal awareness. If it happens in or near our house at night, I know about it.
A few weeks ago, around midnight I was awakened to a cheerful voice in the darkness. I sat up and closed my eyes, all of my concentration focused on hearing the source of the talkative, upbeat sound. Finally, I got up and followed the conversation into Reagan's bedroom. Our little princess was in her usual slumbering pose--all four limbs spread out, no socks on, head back, snoring louder than her father across the hall.
I tiptoed around Reagan's domain in search of the now annoying and increasingly loud voice. I checked the bookshelves, the closet, the bed itself. (Todd was purring softly but he wasn't talking about photography. I'd finally been able to determine that the chipper voice was babbling on about picture taking). In the corner of Reagan's room loomed her toy box. I began to dig as quietly as one can through race cars, Thomas the train figures, a collection of old cellphones and a spinning top. I piled items on the floor until I realized it was the voice of Barbie that had disturbed my slumber. Reagan's grandparents gave her the pink Barbie camera I mentioned in an earlier post. Miss Legs herself was saying phrases like, "Smile for the camera! This one is for the yearbook! Can you make a funny face?"
No one had turned on the camera. She just decided to communicate with the other toys or something. Maybe the camera is really a portal into Barbie's world. I don't know. I do know that I could not shut it off (thanks Papa and Nai Nai) and I couldn't get it to stop talking! I set it up on the shelf, all alone, not touching anything and waited for it to turn off automatically. No such luck. I frantically tried to remove its batteries but that required a screwdriver and apparently I'd left mine in my other set of pajamas.
Finally, in an act of sleep-deprived desperation I put the camera on a shelf in the garage where I couldn't hear it from inside. The cats woke up and stared first at the camera and then at me as if to say, "What the..." but I left before they could finish the sentence.
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2 comments:
This is too funny, although probably not at the time! It's often a strange world with little ones around. As always, I love hearing about all things Reagan and I love reading your writing, Lisa. Thanks for sharing!
LOVED this story!
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