A couple of weeks ago, we heard the distinct sound of footsteps padding around upstairs well after our bath, books and bed routine had finished. We heard giggling and talking. We heard laughing and music playing. We dismissed them. Daisy and Lily share a room, and sometimes are up after lights out sharing stories and laughing about the day.
About 20 minutes later Lily comes tip-toeing down the stairs with a hoodie on over her PJs. Zippered. Hood up. Sunglasses on. She’s hugging the wall and creeping along into the family room.
“Don’t look at me. Don’t watch me guys” she tells us.
“Alright” we say slowly, unsure what is going on. She heads over to our shoe cabinet, reminding us to not look at her.
Seconds later her shoes are on (now, why can't she put her shoes on this quick when we are running late for Kinder drop off?) and she heads straight for the garage.
J and I both jump up, asking the essential questions: "What's going on," "Why are you up?" "Where are you going?"
She turns towards us with a deadpan face, speaking slowly and enunciating every word. She explains that she was going to sneak out and meet her neighbor friend for her first mission. "I'll be back before morning."
And this was the story of the time time one of my daughters tried to sneak out at night. I am very sure it won't be the last time either.