Houses creak. House's crack. House's hopefully don't crack open.
One son is asleep (he is easy) and the other is awake (he used to be easy). I know the boy is awake, but I am not sure if he is in his bed or if he is roaming around upstairs. I went downstairs to write a blog entry, only to realize that the laptop was upstairs and I would need to pass his room in order to get it. I knew that it was going be risky, but I am a grown-up. I am the parent. Besides, I do not want to watch re-runs tonight and I am too lazy to walk 500 ft. to get the cell phone out of my car. So, I decide it worth the risk.
If the boy sees the computer he will come out of bed and inquiring "COMPUTER!?" wanting to play on it. Confidently, yet quietly, I walk pass his open door, pick up the computer, place it under my arm - like a book - and walk downstairs. Success.
I boot up the goods and begin to write. I hear him at the top of the stairs. I can feel his presence. I can almost hear his thumb in his mouth and his blanket in his arms. I called to the top of the stairs "Bedtime ... time to go back to bed!". I did not hear the pattering of footsteps or a frantic "Noooo!" coming from the stairwell, so I knew I needed to get up and help him to bed.
After a short pep talk about all the fun things ahead of us tomorrow (the splash pad and lunch with friends), I explained that he would need to stay in bed or I would take away his blanket. I said good-night and went back downstairs attempting to continue where I left off.
I heard a noise at the top of the stairs again. I was startled because sometimes when I am writing or watching television downstairs with my back to the door, I do not hear the boy come into the room (he *is* only 30 lbs and less than 3 ft tall, so it can happen) and when I do see him, in the corner of my eye, standing behind me smiling silently with his blanket in hand, I yelp. So, I yelled upstairs, "OK, I need to take away your blanket! Go back to bed!". I did not hear any footsteps, so I yelled up, again, and no word. That was it, I was going to go upstairs and put him back to bed again and possibly take away his blanket! I got up off the couch and looked at the top of the stairs. No one was there. I called his name. No answer. He was never there. Creepy.
I went back to work and got a couple of paragraphs in when I heard it again. I yelled "What are you doing up? Go back to bed!". I did not hear anything. Quickly and without grace, I hurriedly tried to put the laptop down on the couch and run upstairs while yelling both boys names and pleading "That's it; I am taking your blanket away!". I am very much hoping that I see the boy at the top of the stairs and not a ghost or something.
I see the boy at the top of the darkened stairs with his blanket in his arms and his thumb in his mouth. I call his name. He says nothing. I call again. He says nothing. He walks slowly down the stairs toward me. Not answering me. When he reaches me, I bend down to look at him (maybe he is sleep walking? maybe he is possessed?). My heart is racing. I look into his eyes and he smiles. He is fine. Asshole.
I put him back to bed again. I go downstairs again. I try to write again. I hear the noise again. I feel the presence again. I look upstairs and see no one. Curious, I tiptoe upstairs and peak behind the bars of the railing and hoping to see the boy walking around upstairs. Instead I see the boy fighting sleep. Freaky.
