Tee day boo

“Tee day boo.”

“What?”

You were laying in bed, and Daddy was laying on the pillow beside you. You talk your way into sleeping.

Sometimes you run down the list of everyone and everything that’s sleeping.

“Animals sweeping.” That began after we went to the animal section of a local park. Since then, we hear it every night.

“Mommy sweeping.”

“Cameron sweeping.”

“Hudson sweeping.”

“Yani sweeping.”

(All classmates at daycare.)

“Milk.”

“Wa-doo.”

You like to alternate between drinking your almond milk and water . . . it helps you to not fall asleep.

And then came the new one the other night, and again tonight.

“Tee day boo.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Tee day boo?”

“What?”

“Tee day boo. Tee day boo.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is.”

“Tee day boo. I get it.”

“Please do,” I said, wanting to see what it was.

You rolled out of bed, and crawled over and with a giggle, grabbed a big teddy bear.

“Tee day boo.”

“Teddy bear,” Daddy said.

“Tee day boo.”

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