...a day meant for laughing

"That's MY spot!"

"No, it's MINE!"

"That's not fair! You kicked me! Mommy, she kicked me!"

"It's MY spot!"

"No, it's MINE! I want to snuggle Mommy!"

"No, I want to snuggle Mommy!"

"Girls, stop it!" The first rays of light were playing at the window, but the room was dark. My eyes were burning. "Stop fighting! Do you hear me? Just stop fighting!"

"But she kicked me," Katherine shouted, "and that's not fair! You said I could come in for morning snuggles and I want to snuggle you, Mommy!"

"No, I want to snuggle you, Mommy!"

"But she kicked me and THAT'S NOT FAIR. Hey, she's taking my pillow! Give that back! That's MY pillow!"

I rubbed my eyes. My mouth was dry. "Just stop it, both of you," I mumbled.  

"But I want to snuggle you, Mommy!"

"No, I want to snuggle you, Mommy!"

They glared at each other and then lunged toward me: hands, knees and elbows, clawing and frantic.

"She's MY mommy!"

"No! She's MY Mommy!"

Anger welled up inside my throat and pooled there, tight and constricting: They'll eat me if I let them.

I sat up in bed and pushed them away. "Get off of me!" I shouted. "Just STOP IT! Both of you, STOP IT! What do you want from me anyway? I'm only one person and I've only been awake for two seconds."

They grew quiet; startled. Penelope rested her head on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mommy," she whispered. Then Katherine slipped her hand in my hand. "Don't be mad at us, Mommy. It's not the end of the world. We're sorry."

I shook my head. "I just don't know what you guys expect me to do when you fight over me like that. I want to snuggle you, but I was asleep. And I'm only one person."

"Just don't be mad at us, okay?"

Penelope stroked my hair.

Katherine looked worried. "We're sorry, Mommy," she repeated. "But you said today was going to be a beautiful, laughing day, remember? You said we wouldn't be cooped-up and grumpy."

I shook my head. None of this was happening the way I'd intended. "I said that, huh?"

"Yes. Don't you remember?" Katherine's eyes were wide and anxious. Penelope was nodding.

I sighed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes! Last night you said, 'I'm sorry we've been so cooped-up and grumpy. Tomorrow we'll go outside and play because it's supposed to be pretty.' See? Today was supposed to be our beautiful, laughing day. Remember?"

Outside the window the sunlight brightened.

I sighed again. "Yes, I remember, but before we can play," I leaned in closer, "I need my snuggles."

I smiled and pulled them toward me, wrapping my rainbow quilt around them. They nestled themselves into the thick folds of fabric. They were suddenly soft, and suddenly sleepy.

"Oh, but wait!" I paused. "I forgot! Before I can snuggle you I have to give you...tickles!"

They shrieked. They squirmed.

They giggled.

After all, the day was meant for laughing.