I'm sure I'm a sight to see in moments such as these. All my eye-boogered, bird's nest hair, frumpy pj gloriousness sprinting. I should set up some video footage of myself.
All of the above descriptions happened a few nights ago. No sooner than my head hit the pillow and working on my second dream, was I awakened by Little Miss crying in her room. It's not like her to wake up and cry so I was concerned. After blasting past her door, I found her in her bed frantically trying to get out of her covers.
"Little Miss, Little Miss, what is wrong, honey?"
"I need to wash my shoes."
(Crying. Lot of hysterical crying.) "I need to wash my shoes."
And that's when it hit me. So this is what is is like. My poor mother. I did this to her so many times. I was an avid sleepwalker and talker. How many times had I walked to my mom's room, gotten inches from her face and whisper shouted, "MOOOOOOM!!!"? Only to summon her to get the thorns out of my bed or pick something from a tree. All of which she pretended to do just so I would be satisfied in my delusional sleep state, and go 'back to sleep'.
As I tried to reassure Little Miss that her shoes were clean, safe, and sound, I tucked her back into bed and gingerly walked out of her room. I went back to bed too, but not before I chuckled to myself. Oh how history repeats itself. My own little mini-me doing the same quirky business.
The best part was when I called to tell my mom the next day. Like any other respectable grammy, she was first concerned about Little Miss. Was she okay? Oh poor thing! That just breaks my heart. Yada, yada, yada. Then she laughed. Laughed at me and said, "Well honey, now you know what it's like. Good luck with that."
Geez, where was my "Are you okay? Oh you poor thing. That just breaks my heart."? Nope, all I got was reality in my face. Well played Mom!
Now here's my sleepwalkin' princess...