The Great Escape

I wake up in a smoldering mess of body heat. Sweat drips from my brow and I am momentarily given a flashback to the summer months in which I miss so gravely. But it is not summer, I know this even in my groggy half sleep state from glancing towards the window and seeing the morning hour is still dark.

My second thought is one of angst as I realize there are too many bodies accompanying this bed. I slowly reach up to my face to wipe away the eye squidgit that is uncomfortably stabbing the corner of my eye. From that small movement I feel another. Yet this one does not come from me.

A small human sleeps close to my right side, and her breathing is not quite as steady as it was only moments before. All too soon I realize that I MUST get out of this bed, without disturbing the two children that complement it- that is, if I want to have my morning coffee in solace.

I try to catch my bearings…This proves difficult because all I can think of now is having a few moments of peace this morning before being accosted by, “MAMA I want cereal!” “Mama, can you put a show on for us!?” “Mama what are we going to do today?”

I want these few minutes of morning solitude…NO, I need these few minutes of morning solitude.

So I begin.

The girl child’s breathing has evened out again, which assures me that she has fallen back into a deep sleep. But this knowledge is just not enough.

In these next few pivotal moves to exit the bed, I must use the utmost of stealth and precision.

I first assess my situation. Husband is on my left side, back turned towards me as though asking to be spooned in his sound asleep condition…I consider it, but in the end realize there is just simply no time for that business. Little girl, on my right side- so close to me that I can feel her forty winked smelling breath on my cheek. And the boy lays along the end of the bed almost across my feet, but not quite. This is where my real problem lies as he is blocking my exit drastically.

I consider doing a roll move over husband, quick and surreptitious, but come to my senses when I realize that will only cause a ruckus since I have never been surreptitious in my life.

I am going to have to ‘worm it’ out of this pickle. It is simply the only way.

I slowly and steadily inch the right side of my body out from under the female babe. She stirs and I catch my breath out of sheer fear of failure. But quickly she falls back to her slumber.

I am now laying in the direct middle of all three of the other humans. It is times like these that I so fervently wish I could levitate. I try. I almost immediately recognize that I definitely cannot levitate.

So with dejected optimism I begin to worm.

I shuffle downwards towards the bedsteads end, pulling my upper body with pure leg strength and ever so slowly as to not startle my bed associates.

I am on a roll, I am feeling successful, and I am making definite progress!

That is until I reach the boy.

It is now time to switch my laying position to a sitting one. I begin to lift my torso, in the most stiffened way. It is reminiscent to the old time zombie movies when they arise from the dead in their caskets.

The child is still in a deep sleep. But I am no novice, I know that this could change at any given moment. I am sitting straight up in the mid-section of the bed, it is now that I realize the ‘worming’ really provided no leeway in distance.

I lift both legs up in the air and am balanced precariously on my bum on the soft mattress. I’m not really sure what I was expecting to do from this point, and hope to the high heavens my husband does not wake up and see this spectacle.

I reposition and throw one leg over the boy and feel freedom when my foot touches the floor. Balanced there on one foot, I slowly pivot my other leg which is hovered over the child’s head to a secure location.


As I perk the coffee in which I have worked so hard for this morning, I daydream of what I will do with these next few child-free moments.

That is when I hear,

“Mama, I’m hungry, can I have some cereal!”


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