You’re The Night-Light Of My Life

I am nine years old. It is my bedtime, and my mom has to go out of the house for a short time (I think just to do something in the basement; she wasn’t leaving me all alone on the property).

I am a huge bookworm, and have a tendency to use my nightlight to read after bedtime. Before she goes out, she makes me promise not to read with my nightlight.

I promised, but the minute she is out of the house I turn on every single light in my room except for the nightlight, and get down to reading.

When she gets back twenty minutes later, she obviously sees the light coming from my room, comes in, and says my full name in an ominous/teasing tone. I simply grin and tell her I’d only promised not to use my NIGHT-light, not any of the others.

I was a bit of a smart-a** as a kid.