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Wet your own bed, little ninja!

Nothing will wreck a great night's sleep like a rude awakening.

There are very few things in our house that my husband and I consider to be ours and ours alone. We share just about everything, from our beverages to our electronics, because it's the way we were raised. Family shares...yada, yada, yada.

There is one thing we do hold sacred though: our bed. Selfish or not, after years of co-sleeping with each of our kids as babies, it's nice that they're all old enough to have their own beds in their own rooms. We enjoyed co-sleeping with the cherubs when they were toddlers, but those days are gone and there's no chance of them coming back.

 

Still, every once in a while, a sleepy-eyed munchkin will have trouble sleeping and climb into our bed. In most cases, one of us will wake up and carry the pint-sized intruder back to his bed and that will be that. But...every now and then, one of them will channel his inner-ninja and slip in undetected. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, the kid involved always wakes up feeling like a king.

And he should. Our bed is awesome. The Egyptian cotton sheets and down comforter were gifts to ourselves when the boys graduated to their own sleeping quarters. Climbing under our extra-comfy covers every night is like a reward for making it through another roller coaster day. Ahhhh.

I'd like to fool myself into thinking it's the security of safely snuggling in between mom and dad that draws the boys back into our bed, but I know deep down it's the sheer awesomeness of not curling up under ordinary cotton kiddie sheets on a plastic covered twin mattress that really calls to them. I can't say that I blame them, but there's a reason for the cheap sheets and crunchy-sounding plastic safety cover. They have occasional accidents. And, as much as I love them, I'm not forking over $50 for bedding that's destined to be saturated by an overnight oopsie-daisy.

I guess karma caught up to me this morning. Be selfish, get your comeuppance. Half an hour before my loathsome alarm was supposed to screech me from my dreamy slumber, I was startled awake by a warm sensation on my back. One of the boys ninja-ed his way in during the night and cuddled up against me. Then whoosh...flood. It was an ugly awakening, and I didn't think there was anything worse than the screaming sound of an alarm clock.

It was just gross. My poor, perfect bed, defiled by a tiny intruder. Still, selfish or not, I won't be holding my cushy sanctuary any less dear...after a thorough washing, of course. We'll share just about anything, but the bed is ours—mini ninjas beware.