Sound Advice

I went in to kiss Nooze goodnight last night, just as I do every night. She was, yet again, sprawled haphazardly across the bed, covers falling to the floor. I picked them up and began to lay them over her.

In typical Nooze fashion, she flipped over, sat bolt upright and looked at me. Eyes unfocused, she whispered, "Momma?"

"Yes, my baby," I responded.

"Momma. Momma. Tell daddy not to drive his car tomorrow."

I smiled, wondering what would come next.

I shrugged, nodded assent and asked why.

"Momma," she whispered mid-snore, "He can't drive it. It's full of frogs."

With that, she immediately laid back down, flipped back over, and continued to snore.