Confessions of a terrible mom
I have a somewhat unconventional way of parenting. Sometimes it works out fabulously. Sometimes, not so much. (But, then, you can say the same thing for conventional types, too, right?)
In my current living situation, my son and I share a very large room with a loft. He sleeps up in the loft and I sleep downstairs in the main part of the room. There's a modicum of privacy visually speaking, but none whatsoever aurally speaking. So, every night (or early morning) as I'm trying to get to sleep, I have to listen to my insomniac almost-11-year-old talking or humming or otherwise making noise until he finally falls asleep.
Two nights ago he was talking and humming and being noisy and suddenly he stopped. After a moment of silence he said, "Mom, did you hear that? What was that noise?"
"I didn't hear anything." I replied.
"It was like a voice. Someone talking."
"Nope. I didn't hear it."
"There it is again!"
"Don't you HEAR it, mom?"
And then, thinking I'd make light of the situation by making a Doctor Who reference, I dropped my voice an octave and said, "Prisoner Zero has escaped."
The boy burst into tears and was inconsolable until I turned the lights on and went up to hug him. I explained that he doesn't need to be afraid because the Doctor saved the day. Just remember the ending, and then there's no need to be afraid of the parts in the middle. I tucked him back in, and then he had me sing bedtime prayers all over again.
Last night I climbed into bed about two hours after I'd put my son to sleep. Of course, he wasn't asleep yet. He was still talking to himself and making lots of noise. I told him to please hush up so that I could get some sleep.
"Wait, mom, one thing before I shut up, OK?"
"OK," I said, exasperated, "What?"
He made his voice as deep as his squeaky prepubescent vocal chords would allow. "Prisoner Zero has been pwned!"
Apparently, so have I. *grin*