Helena's been pushing bedtime this week like there's no tomorrow.
Well after she's been put down, she calls from the bottom of the stairs that she needs to go the bathrooom. I go turn on the light on for her.
She crawls back into my bed, having relinquished her own room to her grandmother and this evening forsaking the little mattress on the floor. She wants me to stay with her. I tell her I'll join her shortly. She's having none of it. I try to negotiate. I end up crawling into bed (my bed) with her.
I don't know why I offer to sing. She wants the song of the p'tit reine. Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer. I sing it softly, slowly. Four times. Helena's almost asleep. The fifth time I sing "Helena, the red-nosed reindeer." I don't know why. "Then one foggy Christmas eve, Santa came to say, 'Helena, with your nose so bright...'"
Her eyes pop open. "Helena? HELENA?" she demands confirmation of what she's heard. I nod. She cannot accept this. "Le chanson est fini," she informs me. "Va, allez." I leave without a word to rejoin the others.
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4 comments:
I'm imagining your Helena with a red nose now.
Sweetly funny.
I would love someone to sing me to sleep. Sometimes when I can't sleep, I beg my husband to 'tell me a story' to which he always obliges. He has the most rich, soothing voice as well a wonderful vivid imagination that always sends me to a delightful slumber. And then, of course, afterwards HE can't sleep. Heh.
When singing to my nephew Max, I've occasionally replaced a name in a song with his name. He loves it... and for him, that song is forever changed.
That was really cute.
D. doesn't seem to mind if I change the words to a song but she absolutely must be the one to decide when and if I'm allowed to sing. Always.
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