What is in my bed?

It was evening and the children were already tucked into their beds. From that point on, we usually hear very little of them until morning, but this time my name was being called. There is a window from the children’s room into our hallway, so I stood outside that window and said, “What do you need?” I expected to be told something that Sister said and I was prepared with one of my canned answers—probably my most-used, “Alright Sophia, time to be quiet.”

But this time Tyler said, “Mom, come.”

“Just talk to me, Son. What do you need?”

“I can’t tell what is in my bed.”

In the States, I would assume that one of his large family of stuffed animals got shifted under the blanket forming a hump he didn’t recognize. But in Africa the question, “What is in my bed?” takes on a whole new perspective. There are creepy crawlies in Africa.I went in his room to check.

There, clinging to the inside of his mosquito net about a foot from his head was a tree frog. I have no idea how it got into their room in the first place unless it came in through the little hole where the sliding window and screen meet. During Sophia’s nap, I had slung the net onto the top bunk to try to let her better feel the breeze from a tired ceiling fan that spins weakly on the ceiling. Maybe she napped with the frog.

“How did you know it was there?” I asked Tyler. I could imagine how startling it would be to have a frog jump onto you when you are nearly asleep and was surprised that his only response was, “Mom, come.”

“Well, I heard this noise and I didn’t know what was making it. Then I saw something here.” 

Aw, his own lullaby. He was fortunate it was mostly the singing that raised questions. We put the little brown songster outside and the children went to sleep.