The sound of footsteps padding down the hallway introduce a knock on the door in my sleep.
I feel the weight of her getting onto the bed as I struggle to grasp the last few moments of sleep. She rolls herself onto my stomach, facing me, pushing her nose against mine. Her freakishly long for a 3 year old fingers stroke my cheeks.
"Momma", she says halfway to a whisper. "You should prolly take a shower and have a good breasfkast (why can't children say that word?). You are gonna have a long, hard day."
With that she launches herself off of me and hurdles herself to the floor. She runs, naked, squealing wildly back to her room.