Tessa’s sleep and nap position always seemed to be fairly stationary while Quint’s has always been all over the place. He’s a somewhat restless sleeper when not wrapped in a blanket fort of his own making.
And Viola, she’s waiting for the commotion to settle before she makes her move onto the bed. In the meantime, she’s perfectly happy on her own blanket where she can watch all.
Sometimes, not often, in my disruptive “blanket fort,” I’d pop my head out, look around and say to myself, “Really? Is this what I’ve come to? Even my favorite fleecy blanket isn’t happy! There’s got to be something better.”
And then, one day, it was. And I said, “Whaaaat?” Earlier in the day, some people came in for the briefest of brief moments, and there was crinkly plastic sounds (one of my favorite sounds next to my food bowl opening) and then it was just my dad fussing around with sheets and blankets. And there was my favorite fort blanket, draped just the way I like it.
I knew there had to be something better. First I was disrupted, then I nearly gave up hope (I think my fleecy blanket did give up hope), and then, almost suddenly, there was a bed where there once wasn’t. Almost like magic! Except the part about the other people and the plastic crinkly sounds, it was magical.
Don’t let other people tell you us orange boys don’t have many brain cells to share. Some of us are pretty smart and never give up hope that good things, like a real bed and a favorite fleecy blanket waiting for fort building, are there on the horizon. I knew it all along! The end.
