This morning, my daughter got up at 6am as usual, so I groggily woke up, got her some cereal and then plopped back into bed to steal another 30 minutes of sleep.
While I was in bed just now and she was in the den, she let out three of the most blood-curdling terrified horror movie screams I have ever heard come out of anyone’s mouth. I was out the bedroom door without my feet ever hitting the ground. Then she shouted “OH NO OH NO OH NO! THERE’S SOMETHING ON MY LEG IT SHOULDN’T BE ON IT!” while pelting down the hall. By the time we met, there was nothing there. I didn’t see anything on her legs but her usual bumps and bruises. So she showed me the bottom of her foot.
“It isn’t a bug!” she said hopefully. And she was right.
The panic-inducing culprit? An inch-long piece of straw from packing a Jayne hat last night.
Well, at least I’m wide awake now.
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