Anyone that has kids has most likely read Robert Munsch’s Love You Forever. It’s a classic. For those of you that are unfamiliar, it’s a beautiful story about a boy growing into a man and the love his mother has for him. Oh, and it’s a little creepy.
Consider this line from the book:
“…she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, looked up over the side of his bed…”
Nothing says “sleep tight” like having your mother crawl across the floor of your dark room to peer at you while you’re sleeping. No, that’s not scary.
Or what about this part of the story:
“But sometimes on dark nights the mother got into her car and drove across town. If all the lights in her son’s house were out, she opened his bedroom window, crawled across the floor, and looked up over the side of his bed.”
Is his mother a former prowler? She got creeping around down pat, checking to make sure his lights are out. She’s even got a ladder on her car for crying out loud!
But do you want to hear the scariest thing though? I am like that mother! Seriously, every night I silently twist Oliver’s bedroom door knob, carefully tiptoe across his bedroom floor, pausing to cringe when the floor creaks, holding my breath as I reach his crib and then stand there and creep on him. Every. Single. Night.
It started out as a “I’m-a-new-mother-and-I’m-afraid-my-baby-is-going-to-stop-breathing” compulsion. But it’s also afforded me the opportunity to take pictures like this:
Anyways, I thought the compulsion to check that Oliver is still alive would go away. Obviously, he’s out of the SIDS woods now but I still feel like I have to make sure he’s breathing before I go to bed. And if Love You Forever is any indication, it doesn’t go away. Before I know it, I’ll be strapping a ladder to the roof of my car. Unless of course Oliver doesn’t move to the other side of town. Maybe he’ll live at home with me.
No, that’s not scary.
diary of an ex-east yorker 