It's 2am. I had enjoyed an evening watching football whilst quaffing a most delightful Italian red. The previous 2 hours were spent snoring heavily - I guess. I'm told that red wine often makes my volume control go wonky!
The whines from Emily made their way from her bedroom into mine and my deep slumber came to an end.
Usually, I would stay still and hope that I was mistaken. A second cry would ensure that my brain would start hoping for a mere brief bout of crying without the need for any kind of attendance.
I eventually heaved my weary body to its feet and staggered to the kiddie room. Emily was still crying. In my most sympathetic tone, I told her to be quiet. Followed by the "I'm too tired for this, give it a rest now or else". She looked at me, but it was clear that she could see me. Another cry!
"Stop it", "be quiet" and "I'll give you something to cry about" may work with someone who is awake, but not tonight. She eventually calmed down and I bounced off the walls towards my own bed with the hope that I could resume my snoring.
Next morning, as we walked to school, I asked Emily "Why were you crying last night?"
"I wasn't crying, daddy" she replied.
"Oh yes you were. You woke me up and I had to come in to see you".
"Daddy, I think that was just your imagination" she said.
Maybe it was?