AITA for Requesting My Father’s Presence in My Room Every Night Like It’s an Emotional Airbnb?
By James, Age 3 (Frequent Flyer of Feelings, Mattress Negotiator)

Hello. It is I. James. Toddler. Thought-leader. Midnight roommate.

I am not unreasonable. I simply want the soft man. The comforting one. The one with beard stubble and snack-sharing tendencies. Daddy.

Last night, I declared my intention clearly and with passion:
“Daddy sleep here. NOW.”
Mom blinked. Daddy hesitated. I intensified my vibe.

Why do I want Dad in my room?
Let’s discuss:

• Mom smells like rules.
• Dad smells like popcorn and vague optimism.
• When Dad sleeps beside me, the monsters take PTO.
• His snoring sounds like a sleepy motorcycle and I find that relaxing.
• He does the voices. All of them. Even the dinosaur with taxes.
• He doesn’t ask why I brought four bananas to bed. He celebrates.

Mom argues:
“This isn’t sustainable.”
“I need sleep too.”
“He has a back.”

Okay. Valid points. But may I remind you: I am three.
My needs include proximity, breath sharing, and unspoken cuddles.
Mom gets bedtime.
Dad gets overnight emotional security duty.
That’s balance.

I set up his sleeping space perfectly:

• One blanket
• One pillow (thin, decorative, mostly symbolic)
• One stuffed elephant named Tuna
• A headlamp (I don’t know why, but it felt necessary)

Sometimes he resists. Says “I need to go back to my own bed.”
But I counter with tears and interpretive sob-dancing.
He stays.

So tell me, Internet:
AITA for demanding Dad in my room every night, even though he wakes up with a sock stuck to his back and the vague scent of banana breath?

Or am I simply fighting for comfort, consistency, and the deepest kind of love: the kind that sleeps on the floor with you in silent solidarity?

Discuss.
Quietly.
Because Daddy’s finally asleep. On the decorative pillow.
Like a hero.