Sleepwalk... not the song.

Today was an unseasonably warm and beautiful day, enough so that all of my children delighted in the hours of outdoor playtime in shorts and tee-shirts.  I love these days when I can open every window in the house and just let that gentle spring breeze blow straight through.  The sounds of children squealing and laughing and giggling pouring in from up and down the street, and the occasional boat horn or speed boat engine roaring up or down the canal.

I also love this weather because it really tires the children out well.  They were in bed without a peep tonight, all four.  Even the two boys who typically need to be told to stop wrestling, fighting, singing, giggling, or chattering at least a dozen times each night after "lights out".  This rarely occurs throughout the colder months, so this first peaceful, beautiful night is amplified in my head (and my nervous system). A serene beginning for me during my husbands week-long absence for business.

I did have a short interruption to my soothing evening silence though, and it provided me with a little chuckle.  Our oldest daughter, Andie, did something she has never before done.  She stumbled halfway up the stairs and I asked, "who goes there", not knowing if it were her or our youngest daughter, who also has a bedroom downstairs from our living level.  She replied, "me!" (as though that would solve the mystery). She then mumbled something that seemed incoherent, but figuring I hadn't heard her clearly, I asked her to come up to the living room.  As she stumbled up the remaining 5 steps, she repeated herself, "I can't read the hair clip". In my mind, I'm thinking, "is my 12 year old drunk?".  She walked over and plopped down onto the sofa, and repeated it, stating that "the other girls can't read them too".  It was very clear at this point that she was sleep-walking... a first in my family.  I asked her to go to bed, and she grunted at me, and told me she is mad at me, but said that she didn't know why. She rolled off of the sofa, headed back toward the stairs, tripped over thin air and then apologized on the way back downstairs.  I dared not ask for what she was sorry, but decided instead to believe that it was for being angry with me, for using the word "mad" incorrectly (again) and for grunting at me.