Restless Leg Syndrome is something which afflicts me infrequently–specifically on those occasions when I have my 6 year old grandson spend the night. And he’s the one with the restless legs, not me. Last night I was awakened about every half hour: a bony knee in the small of my back, a leg draped around my neck, feet on my head. This kid really travels in his sleep! Between that and trying to keep the covers on him, it was a busy night.
When he finally awoke around 7 am to find himself sideways on the bed, legs pinning me down, he looked sleepily at me and said, “Hey, what happened?” I told him he’d been kicking and gouging me all night, and he smiled in his sweet, boyish way and said, “Oh, sorry about that, Nana. I didn’t know I was doing that!” We had a good laugh, and all was forgiven–or rather, there was nothing to forgive. . . but I’m seriously thinking that the next time he spends the night, there’ll be a nice comfy pallet waiting for him on the floor!