I was sitting in the rocking chair, peacefully feeding my sleepy 4 month old, when I heard a sound from the bottom of the stairs. My heart jumped. “No! Oh no,” I whispered to myself. “Not this time! Not again!”
Powerless to do anything but wait for the inevitable, I sat as though pinned to my seat, listening to the agonizingly slow creak of each stair as my worst fear made its way painstakingly closer and closer. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I saw a shadow darken the gap of light that shone under the door, and I heard the sound that struck terror into my heart, no matter how many times I had heard it before. I knew, in that moment, that I wouldn’t be safe anywhere, no matter where I hid. That voice, those words, would find me.
“Heh-yo!” came the chirp from the other side of the door, “Doddle?” and my worst nightmare came to pass as my sleeping baby reared back, startled awake yet again.