A good half hour after being tucked in to bed, Beera comes out with tears streaming down her face. This is what our conversation looked like:
Me: Baby what's wrong?
Beera: I can't tell you, you'll laugh at me.
Me: No I won't, I promise. You can tell me anything.
Beera: (wrapping her arms tightly around me and now sobbing) I'm going to miss you when I marry a boyfriend.
Me: You don't have to move out, you and your husband can live here. You will always have a room and a bed in our house.
Beera: (starting to look more content) But what if I get really tall?
Me: Then we'll buy you a bigger bed.
Beera: But that would be a waste of money.... Do grownups sleep in bunk beds?
Me: I don't see why not.
Beera: (now perfectly happy) Then that is what we'll do. I'll sleep on the bottom bunk, and the boyfriend I marry will sleep on the top.
Me: Sounds like a plan.
Now all is good in her world.
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