Conversation at 1 am

“Honey. Honey!”

“Wha… what? What’s wrong?”

“Do you thinnnnn.”

“What?”

“Honey.”

“Are you asleep?”

“Do you think she needs…?”

“Needs? Needs what?”

“Do you think she needs. Um. Pffffff. Um.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you think she needs cushions?’

“…Cushions?”

“Sage.”

“Yeah, I know, Sage — do I think she needs cushions?”

“Do you think she needs cushions from downstairs?”

“…No. No, I’m sure she doesn’t need cushions.”

“She might be cold.”

“…Blankets?”

“She might be cold.”

“No, I’m sure she’s fine. It’s chilly in here, but her door is closed, her window is closed, she’s half-swaddled and she’s got nice jammies on. She’s fine.”

“I don’t… I don’t want her to be cold.”

“I know. I know. She’s fine.”

“Because she might need.”

“Right. No. She’s fine. Okay?”

“I just don’t want her to be cold.”

“Fffffngrnk. Do you want me to go check on her?”

“…No.”

 

 

Parent #1, who woke the other up to ask about cushions, fell back asleep immediately. Parent #2, on the other hand, was awake for about forty minutes. Half an hour into that, Parent #2 did go check on Sage. She was fine, as Parent #2 had reassured Parent #1.

I am not going to point out who was Parent #1 and who was Parent #2.

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