The baby woke early this morning, very early. Each time this happens, I “play opossum”. I get her out of bed and go straight to the couch. I lay down, cover up with a blanket, close my eyes and pretend to be asleep. My hope, each time, is that she will see me sleeping and decide to lay down beside me and go back to sleep.
It never works.
This morning, as she sat wedged between my body and the couch I practiced keeping my face relaxed. The game of Opossum has to be convincing to work.
Round 1: After a bit of stillness, I imagined a sleeping baby in my arms.
I slowly opened one eye. . . there she was, right in my face, smirking at me! Actually, she was just smiling sweetly and staring right at me, but it seemed like a smirk.
I quickly closed my eye again.
Round 2: I feel little stubby fingers trying to pry my eye open! Oh, no! Squeeze tight, pretend you are asleep!
No luck. She pulled open my eye and laughed! A twenty month old is beating me at my own game. “This is my game, my opossum game! You are not playing by the rules, baby girl!”
Round 3. Squeeze the eyes shut. Relax. Be still.
Sweet hands started rubbing my checks. . . then “womp” on the face. Note to self: “Teach the difference in soft touch and hitting”
Round 4. Eyes closed tight, I feel sweet baby breath on my face, then she is kissing my check. She kisses me, then smiles, then kisses me again.
“Okay, okay. You win! The Opossum game never was a good game anyway. . . let’s go eat breakfast. I need coffee. And a new game.”