You are beautiful, wonderful, magical things. You make weekdays more bearable, weekends more relaxing, and improve physical and mental health. You are heroic and benevolent, and marvelous.
So, I ask this question with complete sincerity, a heart full of disappointment, and a brain that needs more sleep: why have you abandoned me? Is there a nap-fairy that I have offended? Did somehow becoming a mother disrupt a cosmic balance in my life that once made me worthy of you, Naps? Because, honestly, I need naps now more than I ever did. Sometimes, when I am so exhausted that I can't stop crying, I think about what I would be willing to do for just a little more sleep. Naps, do you want to know what would I do for a Klondike bar? Very little. Want to know what I would do for you? No, you don't--because those grand gestures would land me in an institution...though perhaps I would see more of you there.
The truth is that you discriminate, Naps, and I am calling you out on it. You are wasted on the ungrateful young, but turn a blind eye to their needy and hopeful parents, kind of like a unicorn. A mean, mean unicorn. Don't believe me? Please turn your attention to the following example:
This picture above is of my son, Henry. He is napping. This is insignificant without the background information, which I will now explain. Naps, Baby Henry had already rejected this nap, not once, but twice! Finally, he collapsed into a sleeping puddle in his father's arms, and you allowed it! After you had been scorned and rejected, you still awarded him a nap. Now, as an adult I never scorn or reject you, but still my visits from you are few and far between. Naps, I speak for all parents when I plead with you to find your humanity and stop this injustice and award naps and well rested-ness for all!
I love you, Naps. Please, please love me back.
Love,
Miriam
