A Morning One with the Futon

It was the autumn of my first year in elementary school.
I have always been a restless sleeper. Oh, I think I still am.

Even though I go to bed properly tucked in, by morning, the futon is always gone somewhere.
My mother would quietly tuck me back in during the night, but apparently, I would unconsciously kick it off or brush it away with my hands.

You can't control how you sleep, so it can't be helped, I suppose.
I remember feeling a bit depressed about the school trip I would go on later, because of my restless sleeping habits.

One such morning.
When I woke up, for some reason, I couldn't get up.
I couldn't get out even if I tried. My body wouldn't slip out of the futon.

“Huh? What is going on??”

When I looked closely—
To my surprise, I had become one with the duvet. I was in what you might call a 'sumaki' state.

I was wrapped tightly in the futon like the filling of a sushi roll, and what's more, I was lightly tied with a string.

“Whaaaat!?”

Beside me, as I was in shock, my mother said with a matter-of-fact expression.

“You kick off your futon, so I tied you up. It would be a problem if you caught a cold, wouldn't it?”

Saying that, my mother calmly untied the string and released me from the futon.

Being wrapped up like that only happened this one time, before or since.
But still, who would do such a thing?? It's an incident I want to retort to even when I remember it now.