Many mornings after a storm Katie and I would wake up to find Becky in our bed, always with her feet by our heads. It also happened if something had really upset her or if she'd had nightmares. I never understood why she slept that way. She never slipped below the covers or used a pillow.
Once she tried to be "mean" and rubbed her feet on my face. "My toes will invade your mouth daddy," she'd said. I just said, "I had cabbage yesterday." That quashed any talk of toe invasion.
I glanced at the clock and determined that we had another hour to sleep, but there'd be no more sleep for me. I lay there listening to my daughter breathe, and wondered again what the future held.
It was rare that I would take Becky directly to school, so I had let my sister know the night before what was happening
