A couple of nights ago, Barb and I shared a small nighttime crisis with our grandchildren, 5 1/2-year-old Nat and 2 1/2-year-old Molly.
Our daughter Laury and her family have been living with us recently while their home is being remodeled. Tuesday night, to allow Laury and Alex to celebrate their anniversary with a dinner out, Barb and I took over bedtime duty in our kid-friendly loft.
Getting washed up and into PJs went smoothly. Barb read a chapter from The Wizard of Oz and we followed that by singing our personalized version of the Mickey Mouse Club theme song, a tradition that goes back to when our own two children were young.
“Kids, tomorrow morning I have a special surprise for you, ” I said, as Nat and Molly took our hands and we walked to their Jack and Jill bedrooms.
“What is it?” they asked in unison.
“Tomorrow!” I reminded them.
Final bedtime preparation went swimmingly until Nat’s face scrunched up, and his rapidly blinking blue eyes fought to hold back his tears. We expected to hear him cry for his mommy, but that wasn’t his issue.
Nat had done an inventory of his “stuffies,” the stuffed animals that share his bed at night, and discovered that one of his favorites, Marshall, the Fire Rescue Paw Patrol pup, was missing.
“Where is he???” Nat moaned.
As his tears flowed with worry we searched everywhere–under the soft yellow covers; under the bed; in the bathroom sink. Marshall wasn’t anywhere. He had vanished and Nat was inconsolable.
I quickly realized that finding Marshall was a lost cause and that we needed a good distraction. I struggled to think what might calm the young boy down enough to let him fall asleep. And then I remembered my planned surprise.
“Nat, if I show you tomorrow’s surprise right now, will that help you stop worrying about Marshall and fall asleep?” I asked.
“I think so,” he whispered, wiping his tears. “Maybe.”
“Come sit next to me and we can look inside this box,” I said, gesturing to a pink file box I had unearthed in a cupboard an hour earlier.
We opened the box to find a stack of Laury’s old school photos, craft projects, letters from camp, and more.
As he saw the first picture, Nat exclaimed, “That’s my mommy!” At the thrill of seeing Laury’s memorabilia, Marshall the missing rescue dog was quickly forgotten.
We went through the box, laughing at school pictures from each grade, group shots from Banner Day Camp, and ensembles from Miss Marsha’s Dance Studio. Nat eagerly hunted for Laury in every shot. And where did we find her in each photograph? In the front row, of course!
“Mommy was so little!” Nat declared with surprise and delight.
“Yes, she was–but she grew up, and you will too,” Barb promised Nat as she pulled the covers over his tired body. “And now it’s bedtime. When you wake up, Mommy and Daddy will be home, and we will all get together and find Marshall.”
And that is what we did. It’s so much fun to make new family memories while we remember old ones!
Getting More From Les 