One of my co-worker's husband is out-of-country leading college kids on a mission trip to Honduras. She has four kids, and was laughing today about how her children all fight over who is going to sleep with Mom.
I couldn't help but laugh. As a child, we always worried about mother sleeping by herself when Dad was away. When my brother was somewhere between the ages of 10-12, he announced to my sisters and I that he was the boy of the family, and when Dad was gone he should be the one to sleep with Mom. The next morning Mother, after telling us about Andy kicking and squirming all night, informed us that she appreciated the offers, but we were too big to sleep with her, and she was a grown woman and could sleep by herself. We laughed, but agreed.
I don't know where we came up with the concept that Mother had to have someone to sleep with her. Maybe we girls just wanted a chance to share a bed with someone besides our sister, maybe it was the fact that she was alone, but whatever reason, we felt like someone had to be there with her. Dad always found it funny, but I'm not so sure Mom did. The crazy thing is, as a child, I thought my parent's queen size bed was HUGE. On Sunday mornings (before we hit our teen years) the four of us would all get up early and crash on their bed laying different directions and talk and giggle. Now that I'm grown and Bobby and I have a queen size bed, it suddenly doesn't seem so big. Funny how time changes our perspectives, isn't it?
I couldn't help but laugh. As a child, we always worried about mother sleeping by herself when Dad was away. When my brother was somewhere between the ages of 10-12, he announced to my sisters and I that he was the boy of the family, and when Dad was gone he should be the one to sleep with Mom. The next morning Mother, after telling us about Andy kicking and squirming all night, informed us that she appreciated the offers, but we were too big to sleep with her, and she was a grown woman and could sleep by herself. We laughed, but agreed.
I don't know where we came up with the concept that Mother had to have someone to sleep with her. Maybe we girls just wanted a chance to share a bed with someone besides our sister, maybe it was the fact that she was alone, but whatever reason, we felt like someone had to be there with her. Dad always found it funny, but I'm not so sure Mom did. The crazy thing is, as a child, I thought my parent's queen size bed was HUGE. On Sunday mornings (before we hit our teen years) the four of us would all get up early and crash on their bed laying different directions and talk and giggle. Now that I'm grown and Bobby and I have a queen size bed, it suddenly doesn't seem so big. Funny how time changes our perspectives, isn't it?
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