Comfortable soft toys for sleeping

I left my husband and the kids for a week-long trip, thinking there would be no problems. But when I returned home, I found my boys sleeping on the cold, dirty hallway floor.

My heart sank. Something was wrong. Was there a fire? A flood? No, my husband should have told me about this.

I turned off the light and, carefully stepping over the boys, moved deeper into the house.

I opened our bedroom door and it was empty. My husband left at midnight? Strange.

Then I went to check the boys’ room, preparing for the worst.

I approached and heard muffled sounds. I quietly opened the door without turning on the light to see what was going on. I gasped loudly when I saw Mark in the dim light, wearing headphones, holding a controller, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t the strangest thing.

The place had been transformed into a gamer’s paradise. A large TV occupied one wall, LED lights were everywhere, and that monstrosity in the corner was most likely a mini-fridge.

I was in shock, and Mark didn’t even notice me because he was so absorbed in his game.

I took the headphones off his head. “Mark!” “What the hell is going on?”

He looked at me: “Oh, hi, honey. You’re home early.”

“Early? It’s already midnight!” “Why are our children sleeping on the floor?”

He reached for the controller. “Oh, it’s all right. The boys were happy sleeping outside. They thought it was an adventure.”

I snatched up the controller. “An adventure?” They’re not on a hike, Mark! “They’re sleeping on the dirty floor in the hallway!”

“Come on, don’t be such a bore,” he pleaded, trying to get the controller back. “Everything’s under control.” “I fed them and everything.”

“Feed them?” You mean the pizza and ice cream boxes in the living room? I felt my blood pressure rise with every word. “What about the bathtubs? Or, I don’t know, their actual beds?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “They’re fine, Sarah. Relax a little.”

That’s when I went crazy.

“Relieve yourself?” CALM DOWN? Our kids are sleeping on the floor like animals while you play video games in their room! “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m fine,” he chuckled. “I’m just trying to enjoy my free time.” “Is it that bad?”

I tried not to scream. “You know what? We’re not doing this right now. Go and put the boys to bed. Now.”

“But I’m in the middle…”

“NOW, Mark!”

he muttered, but stood up and slipped past me.

I picked up Alex, my heart breaking at how dirty his face was. As I put him to bed, I came to a decision. If Mark was going to act like a child, that’s exactly how I was going to treat him.

The next morning I put my plan into action.

While Mark was showering, I snuck into the man cave he’d created and unplugged everything. Then I got to work.

When he came downstairs, I was waiting for him with a big smile. Good morning, darling! “I made you breakfast!”

He looked at me curiously. “Thank you?”

I handed him a plate of Mickey Mouse-shaped pancakes with a fruity smiley face on them. His coffee was in a drinking cup.

“What is this?” he asked, picking at the pancake.

“This is your breakfast, silly! Now eat up, we have a busy day ahead!”

After breakfast, I showed off my masterpiece: a massive, colorful chore chart pinned to the refrigerator. “Look what I made for you!”

Mark’s eyes widened. “What the hell is this?”

“Language!” I scolded. “This is your own chore chart! See? You can earn gold stars for cleaning your room, washing the dishes, and putting away your toys!”

“My toys? Sarah, what are you—”

I interrupted him. “Oh, and don’t forget! We have a new rule. All screens must be turned off by 9 p.m. sharp. That includes your phone, dude!”

Mark’s expression changed from bewilderment to fury. “Are you kidding me?” I’m a grown man, and I don’t need…

“Ah, ah, ah!” I waved my finger. “No arguing, or you’ll have to go to the time-out corner!”

For the next week, I stuck to my guns. Every night at 9 o’clock, I turned off the Wi-Fi and unplugged his game console.

I even put him to bed with a glass of milk and read him “Goodnight Moon” in my best soothing voice.

His food was served on plastic plates with little dividers. I cut his sandwiches into dinosaur shapes and gave him animal crackers for snacks. When he complained, I’d say something like, “Use your words, honey. Big boys don’t whine.”

A particular point of contention was the responsibilities chart. Every time he completed a task, I would flamboyantly award him a gold star.

“Look at you, you put away your own laundry! Mommy is so proud!”

He gritted his teeth and muttered, “I’m not a child, Sarah.”

To which I’d reply, “Of course not, dear.” “So, who wants to help make cookies?”

The turning point came about a week into my little experiment. Mark had just been sent to the time-out corner for complaining about the two-hour screen time limit. He sat there seething while I calmly set the timer in the kitchen.

“This is ridiculous!” he exclaimed. “I’m a grown man, for God’s sake!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you sure about that? Because grown men don’t force their kids to sleep on the floor so they can play video games all night.”

He deflated a little. “Okay, okay, I get it! I’m sorry!”

I studied him for a moment. He looked genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t about to let him off the hook when I had one last hit left.

“Oh, I accept your apology,” I said sweetly. “But I already called your mom…”

The color drained from his face. “You didn’t call.”

As expected, there was a knock on the door. Opening it, I saw Mark’s mother, looking like a disappointed parent.

“Mark!” she said, entering the house. “Did you really make my sweet children sleep on the floor so you could play your little games?”

Mark looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Mommy, this isn’t…” “I’m not…”

She looked at me, her expression softening. “Sarah, honey, I’m so sorry you had to go through this. I thought I raised him better than this.”

I patted her hand. “It’s not your fault, Linda.” “Some boys just take longer to mature than others.”

Mark’s face was beet red. “Mom. Please.” “I’m 35 years old!”

Linda ignored him, turning back to me. “Well, don’t worry. I’ve cleared everything from my schedule for next week. I’ll get this boy back in shape in no time!”

As Linda walked into the kitchen, muttering about the state of the dishes, I caught Mark’s eye. He looked absolutely devastated.

“Sarah,” he said quietly. “I’m truly sorry. I was selfish and irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”

I softened a little. “I understand, honey. But when I’m not home, I need to know you’re in control. Boys need a father, not just another playmate.”

He nodded humbly. “You’re right.” “I promise to be better.”

I grinned and kissed him briefly. “I’m sure it will. Now, why don’t you help Mom wash the dishes? If you do a good job, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert.”

Mark went into the kitchen, and I felt a little smug. I hoped I’d learned my lesson. If not, I still had the time-out corner ready.