In the deep, dark shadows of the night, Mr. Yoy and I were snoring away.
I was laid out on my belly.
I thought I felt something on my arm. It was very light, like a feather, or a wisp of hair. But maybe I didn't feel anything. It was such a fleeting feeling.
I opened my eyes and slowly swung my head to face the side of the bed.
I let out this loud, grasping for air, scared as sh*t sound. In the light of day, I could not recreate this sound if I tried.
Mr. Yoy popped straight up in bed and began yelling.
WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?
Alas, it was just Big E. He had had a nightmare.
Mr. Yoy chastised me for overreacting.
DO YOU REALLY THINK SOMEONE SNUCK PAST ALL OUR SECURITY MEASURES AND ENDED UP STANDING QUIETLY NEXT TO YOUR BED?
But I stand by my reaction. I usually hear my kids' feet pitter-pattering down the hallway. Last night I heard nothing. I was dead to the world. Maybe I'm the zombie.