I knew the day would come. It breaks my heart to think about it, let alone write about it. For three years now, it’s been the eye of my stormy days, the oasis in a day otherwise consumed by barren stretches, the much needed commercial break allowing for a trip to the bathroom, my recess. I fear our beloved afternoon Nap is slipping away. Tell me it’ll be alright.

We were all such good friends. I thought we had what it takes to go the distance. Everyone seemed happy. But now the Nap is being ripped away from me and no one will give me a straight answer.

I’m trying, ever so desperately, to keep our old pal in our lives. But after leaving my eldest resting in bed this afternoon (and yesterday and the day before that), I came back a half hour later to a make-shift blanket fort, wide eyes and an even wider grin.

“What happened? I thought you were sleepy?”

No answer. Just a cheeky smile.

But seriously, what happened? Did they have a falling out? Why didn’t they come talk to me? I’m really good at resolving arguments. Totally diplomatic. No hidden agendas.

I know. I’ve had it good. Better than most. My boy would actually ask to see his good friend Nap. He would willingly snuggle under the covers and succumb to the wisdom of his old friend. And maybe that’s what makes it so hard. It’s like telling a women who has been thin her whole life, then starts gaining weight – “well, at least you had it good for a while.” This offers neither the newly plump, nor the newly napless any solace.

I know, I should be grateful. Grateful for the good times we shared. And I am. Truly, I am grateful to have known the selfless Nap. But I just feel like we need a little more time together. It’s too soon. Oh Nap, why do you have to go? There are more fun times ahead of us. Come back.

Please.

We’re on vacation this week so perhaps he’ll return. Perhaps he’s been spoked -- scared off by the the coming of Halloween? That must be it! Or maybe he's vacationing too. It’s certainly not me. It’s him. Or maybe it’s my boy. How did it get so complicated? I never thought I would fall so hard.

If he’s really gone, how do we navigate through this long afternoon without him? If this break up sticks, how do we keep from falling apart at 6:30?

But I’m an optimist. There were certainly days when the afternoon Nap felt like an unwanted intruder. Everything ALWAYS seemed to revolve around him and quite frankly, who needs that? He was a “toxic” person, and if Oprah has taught me anything, it’s that we don’t want that in our lives.

But oh, how charming he could be. Soothing the unnecessary tears and bringing quiet and peace to the chaos. Even when he was late, when he finally did show up, it was with flowers and chocolates. I should’ve known it would come to this.

Then again, if he stayed too long or too late, he’d break our hearts all over again. Oh, Nap, you dubious devil you.

Maybe this is for the best. Doesn’t Taylor Swift sing a song about this?

No wait, that’s my broken heart talking. I don’t mean it, Nap. I will totally take you back. You don’t even have to beg. Wait, I think I’m begging you. Is my desperation turning you off? I’ll stop. I’ll do whatever to get you back. I still love you. I’ll always love you. Oh dear, Nap, please come back to us. My little boy is sorry. He’s not ditching you for older, more exciting things. He’s just growing. Can’t you still grow together?

Unless…I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. It’s his brother, isn’t it? It must be! You want to spend more time with the little brother! Well, alright then.

See, I told you I was a good at resolving arguments.