The bedroom door slammed open like it was kicked, and light spilled across my face, blinding me. “The fairies were here last night, I think they ate my grape!” said a small voice. I squinted at the clock and tried to make sense of what was going on. It was 12:34 a.m.
“Tomorrow I’m going to try leaving them a pistachio,” babbled Evie conversationally. Was something the matter? Was she having a dream? Why did she sound so chipper?
“Evie, what are you doing?” I asked. She faltered a little bit. “Getting up. It’s time to get up. The light came on.”
It turns out that Oliver had been messing around with the ghost lights the day before, and had accidentally re-programmed them to come on at 12:34 a.m. Evie, accustomed to it being dark now when she wakes up, and trained so thoroughly by the ghost light system, never questioned for a minute that it wasn’t time to wake up. How is that possible though? I was so tired I couldn’t even remember where I was, and here she is bouncing out of bed and chattering away. Wouldn’t you just know internally that something didn’t seem right? It wasn’t like it was anywhere close to waking-up time.
By the time I got into the bedroom, Oliver was already climbing out of his crib, ready to join his sister. So I had to get them settled back into their cribs, assure them it was, in fact, NOT time to get up, and turn off the lights. And the irony? With no lights to wake them up in the morning, they slept all the way until 7! So they were obviously tired.
I don’t know. It must be nice to be young, and just spring out of your bed at any hour of the day, ready to take on the world. I swear I was never like that, even when I was 5.