I’ve developed a bad habit, displaying negative parenting skills and possibly scarring my child for life.

For the last month or so, almost every night, I’ve been letting Sophie fall asleep in my arms.

I know I shouldn’t do it. I’ve always taken pride in the fact that my children can fall asleep on their own, in their own beds (except for a few months when Annabelle was about 2). Sophie’s usually a problem on the other end of the sleep schedule — rising before dawn and shuffling into our bedroom to crawl between Ray and me — but she’s always been good at falling alseep on her own.

And she still is. That’s the naughty part — there’s no good reason for letting her put on PJs, brush teeth, use the potty, grab a blanket and Piglet, and crawl onto my lap.

Except that I love it. The other night, Ray walked by the couch and stage whispered, “Now, that’s a good idea,” shaking his head.

If you’ve never had a little human being sleep on you, try it. You’ll be hooked, too. Soft snoring, burrowing limbs, sweet-smelling hair — it’s better than Tylenol PM.

Except for the part where you have to make the couch-to-bed transfer. If you’re over 40, beware, because undoubtedly, at least one of your limbs will have fallen asleep along with your child.