Last Night Sucked

I have a king sized bed.  Most nights, 3'2" of Pie take up well over half of it.  I don't know what happened.  Last year, she was great about going to bed in her own room, then slowly she began making her way into mine.  It crept up slowly, starting in the middle of the night, until she was eventually just falling asleep there.  She's old enough for her own room, so one of my new year's resolutions was to get her there all night, every night.  Or, at least almost every night--I'm not heartless if she's sick or has a nightmare or something.

For the most part, this has been awful, but out of no where we had a break through.  She slept in her bed for nearly a week and a half.  How fantastic!  Then last night happened.

"Mumma, where's Eugene?"  Eugene is one of her dolls.  Since the day we got him, he's gone everywhere with us.  He talks too loud in the library.  He refuses to be shared with the other kids at the playplace.  He threatens old ladies at the supermarket.  And he's tucked into whatever bed she's sleeping in every night. 

"I don't know, sweetheart.  Where'd you leave him?"

"I dunno."

We search the house for the better part of an hour, but sadly, no luck.  I try thinking back to the last time she had him, but it's sort of fuzzy.  In fact, I don't think she's played with him since we got home from the grocery store.  The grocery store? 

Oh no!  I ran, fingers crossed, to check the car.  Pleasebeinthecar, pleasebeinthecar!  He's not in the car.  The store will be closed before I can get there.  Shit!  At this moment, I know tonight is going to be difficult.  And that's thinking positively.

"Babydoll," my eyes beg her to be agreeable, "Why don't you choose a different goodnight toy and we'll find Eugene in the morning?"

"No."  She says it casually, dismissing the suggestion without even a hint of thought.

I try again, "Pie, I think you left him at Giant Eagle.  We'll check in the morning, but you'll have to choose something else tonight."

"I don't wa--"  My words register with her and horror paints her tiny face.  Then the tears start. 

I panic and do the only thing sensible thing in this situation--wake up my husband so he can handle it.  He takes charge, pulling her into our bed and holding her, trying to coax her to sleep, but she's kicking and screaming that she needs her doll, and she just keeps crying.  After 15 minutes, she wins.  My husband has another idea. 

We frantically check every Walmart in a 50 mile radius.  None of them have one.  Neither does Super Kmart and everything else is closed.  This is just spectacular.  Maybe I'm too much of a pushover, perhaps I should just tell her to pick something else and suck it up, but instead, I go into damage control mode.

"Why don't I put Tangled on the tv in my bedroom?"  I hope with every fiber of my being that she'll take it.

"Okay."  I rejoice internally, and her teary eyes light with something new.  "Can I have a soda?"

"Sure!"

"And a cupcake?"

"Got it!"  At this point I'm ready to give her my soul just to get her to go to sleep.  And it works!  At some time after 1AM, she falls asleep in my bed, surrounded by various junk food wrappers.  I'm such a horrible parent.

On the bright side, Giant Eagle does have her doll and as soon as she wakes up, we'll go get him.