A Rough Night

The other morning, my youngest daughter, Avi, came down to breakfast looking especially tired. Apparently, she’d had a rough night.

Rough in a twelve-year-old girl kind of way.

Zoe had spent the night at a friend’s house, and Jon and I had gone to bed with our two dogs, who always sleep in our room.

“You won’t believe the night I had,” Avi said, “Last night, I thought there was someone in my room.”

“You thought someone was in your room?” I asked, halfway listening.

“It sounded like someone was crumpling a bag, and it was coming from under my bed. I didn’t know what to do, so I called Dad on his cell phone, but he didn’t answer.”

Let’s just stop right there. When I was a child, and had a scary dream, I yelled for my parents, or got out of my bed and ran to them. I didn’t use my cell phone to call them on their cell phones. Cell phones weren’t even around then.

It was a rough night, in a twelve-year-old kind of way.

It was a rough night, in a twelve-year-old girl kind of way.

However, instead of getting up and going into another room to ACTUALLY TALK TO A PERSON FACE TO FACE, everyone in my family has gotten used to simply texting or calling one another. So, of course she called us. Why wouldn’t she?

Perfectly normal.

“The sound stopped, and I thought maybe it was nothing. But, then I heard breathing. Deep breathing. I thought there was a robber hiding under my bed. I was so scared I didn’t know what to do,” explained Avi.

Apparently, the breathing continued, and since she didn’t have anyone to help her, she bravely looked under her bed.

And what do you think she found? Our huge golden retriever, Winchester. Yep. He’s NEVER done this before. EVER. He was in a deep sleep, and breathing heavily. I don’t even know how he fit under her bed, since he’s so big. He must have sneaked away from our room, once we fell asleep.

I can attest to his loud breathing. It sounds like a person. Sometimes his snoring even wakes me up.

We got a good laugh out of it, but poor Avi. For about fifteen minutes, she thought she was a goner. Maybe next time she’ll actually come find us, instead of suffering alone with her cell phone.

Find meaning each day,