Bum Pocket, Boob Pocket.
It’s Rissa’s bedtime witching hour, when she winds up instead of down,
when she giggles and plays instead of succumbing to slumber.
“Psssssssst…. do you see this tiny pocket?? It’s wee!”
She has this thing for pockets. Wee pockets in particular. She likes
to draw your attention to them – to share her love of pockets.
Victoria’s Secret makes these thermal long underwear jammies… they have pockets. Rissa and I have a both have a pair. Me in a large – Rissa in an extra-small. Rissa’s bottoms fit her in length for about 6 minutes before her legs grew again.
She began mumble-singing. Hmmmmmm-hummmming a tune that I couldn’t quite hear. She was turning this way and that. Showing her back and then her front. I put my book down.
Rissa, with her tailend waggling towards me, “Bum pocket.” She jumped around and pointed to her chest. “Boob pocket.” Turning again, “Bum pocket.” And once more, “Boob pocket.” A quick jump around, “Bum Pocket!” Another full leap, “BOOB POCKET!!”
Then the inevitable crash onto the bed – snorting with laughter – laughing until she gives herself the hiccups. I love bedtime.
I love her! She is her mother's daughter, indeed!