"Nap Time" - Postmodern Writing Prompt

Nap Time

            It’s that time of day again. The time of day when she puts me down and leaves me all alone. She takes me into my small room, which I love and hate at the same time. She leaves me in what is supposed to be a place of sleep and peace, but it feels more like a prison. There’s very little daylight coming through the cracks in the closed blinds. I suppose she thinks the elephants and the rest of the circus animals, painted brightly on the walls, will help to calm my nerves. They rarely ever do. I just want to touch them and play with them. Sometimes I sit and stare at Mrs. Giraffe on the wall by my bed and pretend she is talking to me. Sometimes the she sings me a lullaby when I can’t sleep

I don’t want my momma to leave me in here. She is so soft; I don’t want to leave the warmth and comfort of her arms. I had just fallen asleep, drunk off of her milk. I feel myself begin to get anxious.

“Shhhh… it’s okay, little one,” she whispers in my ear, as she loosens her grip on my and slowly puts me down in my cushioned prison. I try not to cry, but I just can’t help it.  The tears come and they won’t stop. I can feel my face getting red hot. I can’t tell if it’s anger, fear, or just being away from her. I can hear her slowly moving around the room and shutting the door behind her. I am still crying. I can’t see her anymore because the wetness in my eyes has blurred my vision. I try to take deep breaths, but it’s almost too difficult. I cough and cry. Cry and cough. I wonder if she can still hear me. I hope she can still hear me.

            This happens everyday. She does this everyday and she knows I do not like it. But eventually, I do end up exhausting myself with crying. I take another deep breath before I turn in my crib… my prison. At least she left me with Mr. Giggles – my stuffed monkey. I talk to him for a few minutes. I try to tell him how unfair all of this is. He is patient with me. He sits and listens to everything I say,

“ohhh…lagoublyehkhafjhsdhaklf,” I tell him in disbelief.

Mr. Giggles smiles at me. He’s always smiling at me. His smile calms me down and relaxes me. I don’t feel all alone with him here. Maybe that’s why momma has him in here with me, to keep me company when she’s not. My momma is smart. Mr. Giggles never talks back, but he smiles at me and he makes me giggle. No wonder momma named him “Mr. Giggles.”

Once I’m finished crying and I collect myself, I try to pull myself up. I slip my hands through the bars and I pull with all my night. Umph… Nope. I try again. This time I am successful and I bounce and giggle as I look around the room. The rocking chair is in the corner, by the window. The place they lay me down to change my diapers when I’m wet or dirty – I think they call it the changing station on the opposite wall. I look across the room the Mrs. Giraffe. She sings a little lullaby to me in hushed tones.

“You are my sunshine/my only sunshine/you make me happy/when skies are grey…”

She sings so soft and beautifully and I begin to yawn. She knows what she’s doing. Mrs. Giraffe and I have the same routine everyday. Honestly, I am thankful for her. It has been a long day today. I assist myself back to my bed and find Mr. Giggles. I smile at him and he smiles back. I rub my eyes and grab ahold of Mr. Giggles, as I yawn once more. I look around the room one more time at Mrs. Giraffe and the rest of the animals. I lay my head down on my soft cushy pillow and yawn one last time before I close my eyes.

I hear the door creak open and I struggle to open my eyes, but all I can make out is an arm above me. A hand tenderly caresses my cheek and then the mobile above my head begins to play a soft humming song that I recognize. It continues to lull me to sleep and no matter how hard I try to fight it and how hard I resist, my eyes just won’t open. I let the humming of the mobile, tender caresses, and Mrs. Giraffe take me peacefully into dreamland.