Crisis? What Crisis?

“Where’s Juliette? Where is she?”

There was a rustling and movement to my right in the bed.

“A—-, where is she? I can’t find Juliette!”  More rustling.

“What’s going on?” I ask, confused and still mostly asleep.

A loud THUD, the sort of sound you get when someone falls out of bed onto a laminated hardwood floor. I checked – I was still in bed so it wasn’t me.

“Where is Juliette?”

I feel little fingers on my toes. “She’s standing at the end of the bed, grabbing my toes.”

I frown to myself. “When did you take her out of her crib? What’s going on?”

“She’s not here! Where is she? I can’t find her!” More noises of someone moving about in the dark, sweeping her hands over the bedsheets.

I feel more fingers on my feet and realize it’s Becoming-A-Mom crawling around in the dark like a mad hen, searching for a missing baby.

“When did you take her out of the crib?” I ask. No answer. “What’s going on? When did you take her out of the crib?” Still no answer.

A slow dawning realization hit me. She was having another of her crazy dreams, and she believed that Juliette had crawled away from us in our bed.

“She’s in her crib. Everything’s fine, go back to sleep!” I said, kind of irritated.

“Where is she?” Becoming-A-Mom asked one final time.

“She’s in her crib. Everything is fine. Go to sleep!” I repeated.

Becoming-A-Mom got back into bed, lay down and pulled the covers over herself. After a few moments I couldn’t help myself and started laughing. I giggled quietly, my body convulsing with laughter for a minute or two before rolling over myself and going back to sleep.

I mentally added another point for Becoming-A-Dad. Another crisis averted.