One night, a long time ago

PROVE IT, HERMY……

There was a rule in our house when I was growing up.  Lot of rules, but only one that matters right now.

We were not supposed to disturb our parents at night, unless it was important.  They kept their door locked at night, and they didn’t like us to knock on it unless it was very important.  I needed to say that so you’d understand what this story means to me.

I had a bad dream one time.  Daddy was home, and my parents were asleep in their room.  In the dream, somebody told me I had to tell my parents something.  I don’t remember why it scared me so much, but I was sure I just had to tell them.  I got up from the bed, and I walked across the hall to their room.  I knocked on the door, and Daddy hollered something that was the same as “Huh?”.

I was already crying, but that made me cry more.  I told them I had to tell them something.  They asked me what it was, and I felt stupid because I didn’t know what I was supposed to tell them.  I knew I was supposed to tell them something, but I forgot what it was.  I started crying harder when I said, “I don’t know!”

The next thing I know, I hear the lock pop and the doorknob turning.  Mama and Daddy both came out into the hall with me.  I don’t remember which one did it, but one of them gave me a hug and asked me what was going on.  Daddy looked scared.  He asked me, too, and I didn’t know anymore.  I didn’t know, and not knowing makes me feel dumb.

They both took me to the bathroom, and I was crying the whole time.  They asked me if I had a bad dream, and I felt dumber because I didn’t know if I did.  They didn’t get mad at me.  They worried.  Even Daddy worried.  I didn’t know he could worry.

After I used the bathroom, I cried to my parents for a little bit, and then I think Mama put me back in bed.  They both told me everything was ok, and maybe I would remember what I had to tell them in the morning.  I was surprised because I didn’t get in trouble.  I woke them up, and I didn’t know why, and I thought they would be mad at me, but they weren’t.

Daddy was nice.  He was nice that time.  Sometimes he was really nice.  Mama almost always was nice so that didn’t surprise me, but Daddy could be mean, and he was nice, and that wasn’t what I expected.  He didn’t come out with the belt, and I didn’t get whipped.  He was nice.