Sometimes Big Girl

The little girl's father and I rotate bed time duty.
On Daddy Nights, the little girl insists that she is a big girl, old enough to sleep on her own. She'd snuggle up with her doll (which is freakish looking as all life-like dolls are), and ask her dad to stay outside of her room until she falls asleep. Just in case there's something scary lurking in the dark.
On Mommy Nights though, she is a big girl no more. She needs mommy to lie beside her, sharing her pillow and within arm's reach. Whenever the mood struck her, she'd hook me over until my face is squarely buried in her chest, and she has her chin rested nicely on my head. Last night, I dozed off for a couple of minutes and woke to find her a mere inches from my nose. Though she was blurry in my vision from being so close, I could see her wide open eyes watching me. "Why aren't your eyes closed?" I asked her. She flashed me a big, bright smile.
These are the times that makes my heart melt, and make it so very difficult for me to insist on a strict bedtime ritual that does not involve me getting into bed with her. These are also moments when I wonder what makes her need me so much, and if I am doing enough to deserve it.
There will come a day when she won't need me to tuck her into bed anymore. Then, I'll look back and wonder where time has gone and how come she had grown so fast. But before then, let me enjoy this closeness she's granting me.