By the looks of me, I'm fairly harmless. Just under five-feet-four, a petite frame, a warm smile... but apparently I'm something much different in the depths of my three year old's subconscious. Something much more ferocious and cruel. Something more like a cookie hoarding monster...
A few nights ago Evan woke up in the middle of the night screaming in terror... a night terror. Our first. Evan was having a terrible nightmare and there was nothing that we could do about it.
I ran to his bed side at 1am. He was screaming. SCREAMING. "I want that cookie in your mouth mommy!" "I want that cookie in your mouth!" "Give me the cookie in your mouth mommy!" Just what was this about? Was Evan really dreaming that I was stealing cookies from him? Taking tasty morsels from my own child's mouth? He was hysterical. I felt so helpless that I started to sob my own middle-of-the-night tears.
In my son's subconscious I am a cookie stealing bitch.
I don't even like cookies all that much.