I Am a Grown Up Who Must Have a Night Light
Last night I realized something about myself I didn’t know. I must have a night light.
I wasn’t always needy with the night light. I never used one until my first child was born. Then my wife put one in our room since she’d be waking up several times every night to feed the baby. After five years and two more kids, it hit me that I have to have a night light.
Last night I got to bed a little late, after Crystal and the kids were all in bed. When I walked into the bedroom it was pitch black and it’s never pitch black. Rockley, I’m guessing, pulled the night light out of the wall so it was completely dark. I didn’t like it.
Last weekend we stayed at my in-laws new house. Crystal and the boys slept in one room and Jackie and I slept in the pair of twin beds in the other room. I left the light on, for Jackie of course, with the dimmer turned all the way down so that the recessed lights were barely on. I didn’t realize at the time that I was the one who had to have the lights on.
Or I could just get these Bright Feet Slippers so I don’t mash my toes on furniture.
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