THUMP

Little feet hit the floor in the room down the hall. The rain is falling softly outside my window. Plip plop. It’ll only be a few seconds before he’s here. A decision needs to be made.

I play dead. 

I can feel his eyes on me as he decides he would have better luck on the other side of the bed. He patters over there and I immediately feel him being lifted into the middle of the bed. His wayward foot lands with a thud on my already too full bladder.

Ooph. What are you doing here?

I’m scared of the funder. 

There is no thunder. 

But what if there’s a big boom?  

It’s just a rain shower. No big booms. 

I want to cuddle mama. 

I strain to see the time.

5:21

Just 20 minutes until my alarm will sing its morning song and we’re all off to the races. He settles in on my shoulder and I hear the familiar sound of his little thumb find his mouth. It’s a habit we’ve yet to successfully break him of. It’s so damn cute but I imagine the braces bills with each little squeak. I’m lulled back to sleep by the symphony.

Squeak. 
Plip plop. 
Squeak. 
Plip plop. 
Squeak. 
Plip plop. 

Alarm. 
Thunder. 

I am writing for the 18th annual Slice of Life challenge presented by Two Writing Teachers.