Another Battle Won, For Now

Another Battle Won, For Now

         “Heather, you should be about ready to get out of the tub now,” Mommy suggested.  Mommy never had any trouble when Heather was to start her bath.  The trouble came when she had to get out.

         “Oh, no!  Not yet!” Heather protested.  “We have lots of bubbles left!”  She splashed the water and pouted.  Fluffy suds flew everywhere, and Heather laughed, amused, as they floated down and settled as pale creamy blotches here and there around the tub, even on mommy’s head!

         Mommy took hold of Heather’s hands and held them up.  She looked at them for a long moment and allowed a look of worry to crease her brow.

         “What’s wrong, Mommy?”  Heather wondered as she, too, turned her gaze to her hands.

         “Oh dear,” Mommy moaned.  “What ever shall Daddy and Mommy do once the sweet Heather they love has become a prune!  That’s what happens, you know, when small ones splash too long and don’t get out of the tub when they are told to.

         Heather's brown eyes grew larger.  She shook her head and water drops flew everywhere.

         “They become prunes!”  Mommy pretended to sob and  shook her head sadly as Heather watched.

         “No, Mommy,” Heather comforted as she looked at her hands once more.  “Prunes are purple and brown.  My hands aren’t those colors yet, see?”

         “That’s true,” Mommy relented, “but all of a sudden, that could change!”  Once more Mommy shook her head sadly.  “The change usually starts at the toes, anyhow.”

         “Really?”  Heather asked.  She sat back and slowly poked her small toes out through the creamy foam to have a look.  “Oh!  Mommy!” she yelped.  “Look!”  Heather shook her foot to draw her mother’s gaze.

         “Oh my goodness,” Mommy teased.  “You have started to become a prune already!  Whatever shall we do?”

         “Where’s my towel?” Heather demanded as she acted out her part.  She had played the game before.

         “Here’s the towel,” Mommy offered, as she patted the towel that lay across her lap.  “But prunes don’t use towels.”

         “Get me out!” Heather begged.  She reached through the soap bubbles and pulled the plug.    As the last of the bath water spun round and round at the end of the bathtub, Heather snuggled up to her large fluffy towel.  “Mmmmmm,” she breathed deeply, her eyes half closed.  “My towel always smells so good.”

         The corners of Mommy’s mouth turned upwards as she looked at her small daughter.  “That’s because of the softener we use when we do the laundry,” she told her.  “Now let’s get those curls dry before you go to bed.”

         At the sound of the word bed, Heather perked up and her sleepy mood evaporated.  “Can we play a game?” she asked.

         “We’ll see,” came Mommy’s answer over the sound of the blower.  Mommy brushed each and every curl and used the blower to get them dry before she got her daughter off to bed.  She always made sure that Heather had her bath well before she had to go to bed so that she wouldn’t have a wet head. 

         When Mommy turned the blower off she helped Heather put on her flannel gown and cap.  “All ready for bed,” she sang.

         “Ohhh,” Heather protested.  “What about our game?”

         “One game, young lady,” Mommy stressed.  “You really must go to bed.” 

         Heather hated to go to bed.  She was scared that fun events took place as soon as she closed her eyes to go to sleep.  Mommy and Daddy told her that they only had fun when she was there, but she was sure they were wrong.  So, because Heather so hated to go to bed, Mommy made sure she gave her a bath early so that they could play a game or two before bed.  That made Heather happy, and sleepy, too.

         Heather ran to her closet, pulled out a game, and went to her small play table.  Mommy cleaned the bathroom, put away shampoo, bubble bath, and the blower, and hang the damp towel and bathmat to dry.  When Mommy got to Heather’s room, the game was set up and ready to play.  Heather was seated on one of the seats that matched the small table, a pretty brunet doll tucked between her and the armrest.

         “Let’s play ‘Muppets Match Game,’” she chortled as Mommy appeared at the doorway.

         “OK.” Mommy agreed.  “Do you want to start or do you want me to?”

         “You can start, Mommy,” Heather offered.

         Mommy sat down on the floor.  The seats that matched the small table were measured for youngsters, not adults.  Once comfortable, Mommy reached over and selected two cards that lay facedown on the table.  “Ooops.  Not a match,” she frowned as she turned them back.  “Your turn.”

         Heather looked at the cards and chose one.  The scene on the card matched one of the cards Mommy had just turned over, but would she remember the correct one?  Yes!  Heather turned over the card that showed the same scene.  “Match!”  Heather announced joyfully.  “Bonus turn!”

         Heather chose another card from the table.  “Hmmm,” she pondered.  The face on the card was not the same as the other cards that had been drawn before.  She reached out and selected a new card.  “Rats!” she huffed when the two were not a match.  She turned the cards face down and sat back.  “Your turn, Mommy.”

         Mommy looked at the cards once more and chose two.  “Nope.  Not a match,” she observed.  Back over the cards were turned and Heather was ready for her next turn.

         Soon only a few cards were left.  “How about that one,” Mommy proposed as she reached for the card at the very corner of the tabletop.  “Have we looked at that one yet?”

         Heather shook her head and blond curls along the edge of her cap bounced around her face.  But the card at the corner was not the match Mommy had hoped for; her turn was over.  Once more, Heather leaned across the table.  She chose two cards and turned them face-up.  “Match!” she sang out.  She moved the matched cards to her stack and looked at the cards that were left. 

         Soon two more cards were turned over.  “Match!” she repeated.  Only two cards were left and Heather knew they had to match.  She turned them both over and moved them to her stack.

         “Now we have to count our cards,” she stated matter-of-factly. 

         Mommy counted the cards she had matched.  “Seventeen matched sets,” she decreed.

         Young Heather counted her cards, too, but she needed Mommy’s help to get the job done.  “Ten…eleven…twelve,” she counted as she moved the cards two at once to count her sets. 

         “And here are two more sets, Heather,” Mommy commented as she gave four cards to her daughter.

         “Fourteen?” Heather asked, unsure of her math.

         “Yes,” Mommy commended.  “Now add the rest of these.  Here are three more sets.”

         “Seventeen.” the youngster counted as she placed the cards, two by two, face down on her stack.

         “Good!  Now add three more sets, Heather,” Mommy urged.

         “Twenty!” Heather called out.  She had won the game before, but she had never gotten so many more matches than Mommy.  “Are there any more cards to count?”

         “Yes,” Mommy told her.  “There are three more sets.”

         Two by two, Heather placed the cards on her stack.  “Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three!” she concluded.  “Twenty-three matches!”  The youngster bounded out of her seat and galloped about her room for glee.  Mommy watched Heather dance her baby doll around the room, pleased at her daughter’s cheerfulness.

         Heather looked at Mommy and then felt bad because Mommy had lost the game.  “Ahh, Mommy,” she comforted.  “We love you even when you don’t get the most matches.”  She moved her doll’s hand close to Mommy’s face and patted her on the cheek.

         “Can we play more?”  Heather asked.

         “Oh, Heather.  You never want to go to bed!  Don’t you ever get sleepy?”  Mommy prompted.

         “No!  We’re not sleepy yet, are we?” Heather asked her doll.

         “Why don’t you lay down under the covers and we can read a story together?”  Mommy suggested.

         “Yeah!” Heather celebrated, as though she had won a tough battle.  But Mommy had allowed space on the schedule to read a story before bed.  She always left a few moments for that.

         Mommy pulled back the sheets so that Heather could crawl up and settle down for bed. 

         “We get to hear a story.  We get to hear a story,” Heather sang as she danced around the room once more.

         “Come on, Heather,” Mommy let out a heavy breath.  “You really must go to bed!”

         Heather obeyed her mother’s words and went to the bed.  “Can we play more tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.

         “Of course, Sweetheart.”  Mommy assured her.

         “You won’t do any fun stuff when we’re asleep?” the youngster asked as she plump hand covered a yawn.

         “No, of course not!  We never do,” Mommy consoled.

         “Are you sure?”

         “Absolutely sure!”  Mommy concluded.  “Now get yourself up here and we’ll read that story.”

         “OK,” Heather agreed at length. 

         Heather and her doll snuggled down between the sheets.  Mommy sat on the edge of the bed and read the story to her daughter.  “Long, long ago…” she began.  As she read, Mommy glanced at Heather to see whether or not she was asleep.  Heather kept her eyes open as Mommy read.  Gradually, her eyes grew heavy and she yawned once more.  Mommy read and read.  Each word made Heather’s eyes close a small amount more.  Eventually they were completely shut.  Mommy kept on as long as there was story left to read.  She knew Heather would wake up were she to stop before the end.  She had always done that before and Mommy knew she would do the same now.  So she read and read.

         Just as Mommy got to the last words of the story, Heather’s eyes fluttered open. 

         “The end,” Mommy concluded.

         “Aww,” Heather groaned as she rubbed her eyes on the back of her hand.  “Not the end!”

         “Heather, go to bed!”  Mommy counseled.  She pulled the drapes back and commented, “Look how dark the sky has gotten!”

         “Can you turn my lullaby tape on?” the youngster asked as she turned her head to conceal a yawn.

         “Yes,” Mommy told her.  “Let’s see.”  She fumbled among the tapes and found the lullaby tape that Heather loved the most.  Mommy set up the tape to play softly so that Heather could go to sleep.

         “You hush and go to sleep now,” Mommy cooed as she left the room.  “Love you, baby.”

         “Love you, too, Mommy,” Heather yawned reluctantly.

         “The long battle’s almost over,” Mommy commented to Daddy as they passed each other at the end of the hallway.  “Just remember,” she added, “tomorrow’s your turn!”

         Daddy brought Mommy a cup of tea and they sat together on the sofa.  When the news was over, they headed to bed themselves, but stopped to check on Heather as they passed her door.

         At long last, Heather was asleep.  The corners of Mommy’s mouth softly turned upwards as she gazed at her daughter.  Daddy’s head shook back and forth and he remarked, “She’s so cute.  Hard to dream she can be so stubborn!” 

         Mommy nodded her agreement.  “She’s a sweetheart.”

         Ever so softly, Mommy and Daddy crept back to the hallway.  “Another battle won by sleep,” Mommy laughed as she followed Daddy down the hall, “only to start fresh tomorrow when she wakes!”