Bedtime Assault

My eyes narrowed suspiciously at my daughter’s arm. She was on her side in bed, and this dubious limb was dangling behind her hip. “Are you digging your butt?”

“Nooo… no, I’m not digging my butt. See?” Her questionable fist swung around with the ferocity of a tiger. An index finger jammed into my left nostril before my brain sluggishly processed the attack.

I flew backwards with a grunt and was grateful for the pillow that caught my head. Staring at the empty air in front of me, I sniffed timidly. She chortled next to me, quite proud of having proved her finger innocent. This time.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s