In the evening, after work, I was so exhausted that I collapsed on the sofa. I played a little with my son, I didn’t even have dinner—I simply didn’t have the strength. I lay down to rest for two minutes… and I fell asleep without realizing it, right there on the couch.
My son was playing nearby, my wife was preparing something in the kitchen. Everything was calm. At least, that’s what I thought.
I don’t know how much time passed, but suddenly I woke up with a start, overwhelmed by a freezing sensation, as if someone had poured a bucket of water over my head. I sat up, opened my eyes, and saw a strange scene: my son was standing next to me, holding a cup, pouring water over my head.
— Dad! Dad! — he kept repeating, all excited.
In the first seconds, I didn’t even understand what was happening. Then anger flooded me. I was half asleep, my clothes were soaked, the sofa too, water dripping onto the floor.
— Don’t you know that’s not how you’re supposed to do it? — I said irritably, wiping water from my face.
My son got scared, his lips started trembling.
— Dad, forgive me…
And at that moment he said a sentence that struck me like an electric shock. It wasn’t just a child’s mischief—it was much worse.
— Dad, you were shaking… your whole body was shaking, and your eyes were open, and you wouldn’t wake up. I screamed… but you couldn’t hear me.
I froze. My son’s words went through me like an icy wind. Little by little, the panic left me and I understood: this wasn’t a dream. It was an episode.
It happened rarely, but it had happened to me before. And the most frightening thing—it always came without warning. Usually my wife was there, but this time what saved me… was my one-year-old child.
He had seen me start shaking, my body stiffening, my breathing becoming shallow. A small child who could barely speak yet understood that something was seriously wrong. He tried to wake me, shook my hand, screamed, cried—but I didn’t respond.
So he had the simplest idea a child could have: he brought a cup of water and started pouring it over my face, hoping I would wake up.
And it worked.
I was sitting there, soaked, in shock, and in front of me was my little boy, his lip trembling and his eyes wide with fear.
I pulled him close to me, as tightly as if I were afraid of passing out again.
— It’s okay… You saved Dad, you hear me? — I whispered, a lump rising in my throat.
