Let Sleeping Aunts Lie

Please take note of the fact that this story has been slightly embellished for added humor.




The evening started out uneventfully enough. Greta and Aster settled themselves into the hide-a-bed in my room, and I went to my own bed thinking ‘this is going to be an uneventful night.’ Little did I know!



12:00 am.

Aster wakes me from a sound slumber by tickling my back.



Me (sleepily): What is it, Aster?

Aster (wide awake): I can’t sleep. Can you read me a story?

Me: It’s midnight. I am NOT going to turn on the lights and read you a story.

Aster (helpfully): We won’t wake anyone up if we go downstairs.

Me (in an authoritative aunt voice): No. Go back to bed.



12:30 am.

Aster comes and wakes me in the same manner as before.



Me (beginning to think that this might be a long night): What is it now?

Aster: I still can’t sleep.

Me (trying to think of the simplest option): Can you sleep on the floor?

Aster: No.

Me (trying to think of the next simplest option): Can you sleep with me?

Aster: Yes.



Aster climbs in bed with me, and we go peacefully back to sleep.



1:30 am.

I wake up and discover that Aster has made a cocoon of herself using all of the covers. I try to extricate enough of them to cover myself without waking her up. I am unsuccessful.



Aster: What time is it?

Me (now firmly convinced that it’s going to be a night of unusual length): 1:30

Aster: I’m thirsty. Can you get me a drink?

I have serious thoughts of telling her that she’s a big girl and can get her own drink, but conclude that it is probably easier to comply with her demands. Aster is a very sweet girl, but there are some things that she can be rather stubborn about. The drink is duly fetched, and we are once more tucked into bed.



3:00 am.

I awake and hear rain pouring down outside. I get up to shut the windows and climb back in bed just in time for Aster to wake up.



Aster: Velvet Petals’ windows are open. (Velvet Petals is Aster’s rabbit that she brought up to my house for the duration of her stay. She had put him in the unfinished part of the house for the night, and left the windows open so that he would stay cool).

Me (desperately hoping that I don’t have to get out of bed again): You’d better go close them, then.

Aster: I can’t go downstairs in the dark.

Me (clutching at the last straw): But you’re a big girl…

My voice trails off; I realize that I am beaten. So, I climb reluctantly back out of bed. We go downstairs and shut the windows, and then get back under the covers.



Aster: I’m not sleepy anymore. Can’t we just get up?

Me (once again in my authoritative aunt voice): No.



3:30am.

I have just started to doze off when Greta wakes up, crying for her mommy. I climb in bed with her, and she promptly goes back to sleep. I now have two options.

1. I can try to wrestle Aster back to her side of my bed, or 2. I can try to catch a few winks on the hard side of the hide-a-bed with Greta’s elbow in my ribs. I am dog tired, and reluctant to get up again, so I opt for number 2 and resign myself to my fate.