Last night, I turned my reading light on a bit too soon and bean arose from his sleep to see it. I quickly hid it behind my book, as I know from experience he will stop at nothing to catch my tiny light if he sees the source, but its rays painted the wall. So, he reached his hand to the wall and saw his shadow there. I cast one of my own, and we played thusly for a quarter of an hour or maybe two before sleep found my son once more.
Perhaps his excitement was too much; whatever the reason he woke around 10 and spent the rest of the night rocking and scooting.
We had no shadow puppets tonight. No light was set to draw sweet bean so tragically from the soft seas of slumber. Darkness was no trouble to me: my book is finally finished, and I’m left yearning for the rest of the story. I will try to distract myself from the longing with a flurry of knitting; whether the distraction is successful or not is no matter, it is the time of year that calls for necessary knitting. I’ve four Christmas presents to finish, two if which I’ve not even begun.