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Writer's pictureMichelle Walsh

Leave a Light On

Having been away for a few days, and finally arriving back into my own bed, one thing was calling my name: sweet, sweet slumber. My eyes, heavy from the day, could barely stay open as my head hit the pillow. Not more than 5 minutes had passed, when suddenly, I was jolted awake by Bo barking.

Apparently, someone was knocking on our front door. By the time I laboriously pulled myself upright, and stumbled down the hall, Bo was going crazy. Meanwhile, Tom was unsuccessfully trying to rouse, and put on pants, because, well, pants are important.

If this was an Olympic relay event, and I was passing the baton to my beloved, he would still be at the starting line pulling up his drawers, while I was weaving into everyone’s lane but my own. Outstanding.


Meanwhile, as I am getting closer to the living room, I’m thinking thoughts like, “Who knocks on the door at midnight? What the actual F? Doesn’t this person know we are/WERE asleep?”

Nothing could have quite prepared me for what I witnessed next.


Cosette standing in the kitchen, handing my phone to a once little girl/now grown up 16 year old from down the street. Her phone had died and she had gotten locked out of her house. This once little girl/now grown up young woman with red lips, saw a light on in Cozy’s room, and knew she could knock on our door.


It was Saturday night, and teenagers are vampires, so there’s that. My annoyance immediately turned into gratitude.


So, thanks God for you know, gently reminding me what this whole thing is about. And also thank you for being patient with me as I lose my patience, and get annoyed, and want to shout unsolicited obscenities at the sweet neighbor from down the street.


Message received: leave a light on.


If you have ever been woken up out of a sound slumber and wanted to kill someone, I see you,

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