Sneaky Shoes

The bedroom lights are low and two little girls are in there beds. McKenna has been snoozing for a while and from my vantage point, Caelan is in sleepy stillness. I marvel at how sweet they look, bundled up in their blankets, surrounded by all their favorite toys. This is my favorite time of night. Another day has charged by and there is peace in the house. These two girls share a room, but very little else. They are polar opposites: Caelan, desparate to make the most of every minute of the day and to grow up far too soon and McKenna, my blonde hippie, flower child. They hug each other and are the best of friends. Then they tustle and can't stand each other. In their beds at night, they are at their calmest and sweetest.

I turn to walk away from the door, but a quick movement from Caelan's bed catches my eye. Her hands dart along the blanket and swiftly reach over the side of the bed and seize something from McKenna's bed nearby. I see a flash of pink and the item is crammed under her pillow where she curls back up into her sleeping position. I wait until her chest rises slowly with deep breaths and her eyelids crack open. That really weirds me out, seeing her sleep with eyes that are half open. I reach under her pillow and pull out a tattered pair of pink patent leather shoes. Sigh.

Every day guarantees at least one altercation over these shoes. They are Easter shoes from last year, well worn and too small for either of my twin-sized girls. They obsess over them. When one is wearing them, the other is dying to put them on. As soon as they come off one, they are put on by the other. They tried sleeping in them until I put the kibosh on that idea. So under the pillow they went. The first one to put them on before the other woke was the rightful wearer for the day- or until they are removed by the wearer. This scenario is a direct result of making the "if you fight over it, it's mine so work out your own problems" directive.

This morning, very early, Caelan came to my room and snuggled next to me in bed, the blankets tangled around her feet and ankles. She was in my bed with those shoes on. Sigh. A little while later, I started my day as she dozed. McKenna woke, too, and dissolved into messy tears, "Caelan took my shoeeeeessss. I had them on....." I sent her back to bed, not interested in starting the day off like that. Caelan was the wearer for the day until a little while ago when McKenna declared her ownership of the discarded shoes. Now to address her clothing choices, the droning monotony 'tights are not pants, tights are not pants, tights are not pants, tightsarenotpants..........."