This past Friday night,
Sam was out of town again presenting research.
Halfway through the night I awoke and found Wesley in the bed
next to me, sleeping soundly.
A few minutes later
(or was it a few hours?)
I was startled awake as Talmage ran into the room
exclaiming with excitement, "I'm dressed!"
I groggily looked at his jeans and T-shirt and then looked at the clock.
"It's still the middle of the night, Buddy..." I croaked.
"Why don't you go lay down on the couch and go back to sleep?"
"But I want to sleep in here!" he protested.
I was in no mood to deal with tantrums
and risk waking the sleeping 7-month-old with obstinate yelling.
Grabbing a pillow and blanket I said,
"Okay, but be still so you don't wake Wesley up,"
and resigned myself to the couch instead.
So we had one in a hotel, one on the couch,
two little boys occupying their parents' bed,
and the baby sleeping soundly through the night in his crib.