Crack parenting

Or maybe a better title would be, "Parenting on crack."

So I was being a very good adult today, picking up the dog poop in the backyard and taking it to the garbage can in the front yard, when I decided to peek into TheBoy's window to see if he was still asleep. The problem: He wasn't. In fact, he had just woken up. And seeing a face in his bedroom window, even Mommy's, wasn't exactly the most calming sight.

He began to shriek. And weep. And shake. When I picked him up, he flinched. We sat down in his rocking chair, and he went rigid. He looked out the window. He flinched again. He pointed to the electrical cord on the floor beside his rocker and said, "Don't let anyone hurt me with that."

What the hell? Eventually, I figured out that he'd probably had a nightmare, and I had the worst possible timing when it came to sneaking a peek at my little angel. I asked him if he'd had a scary dream, and he nodded. He told me someone had hurt him. I asked who. He pointed at me.

Memo to myself for the future: Do not terrify the child by appearing in his dreams. Do not terrify the child further by suddenly popping up in his window without any kind of warning. If feeling the need to terrify the child, wait until he reaches his teenage years and try more conventional means like, say, merely existing or daring to go out in public.