The Common Man has been totally out of it today, to the point that he fell asleep in his chair more than once this afternoon. Last night, after he and The Uncommon Wife decided, for reasons that defy logic, to stay up late, their minutes-old sleep was interupted by the concerned and forlorn cries of "daddy?" and "mommy?" eminating from the next room. The Boy, it would seem, would no longer brook being left in his crib while everyone else got to snuggle.
And so, The Common Man rose from his slumber, and like any responsible parent, brought the product of his loins back to his bed, to nestle between his mother and father. However, rebel that he is, The Boy refused to stay nestled. He twisted. He pushed. He flipped. He climbed. And, ultimately, he kicked (like a baby Chuck Norris, except that Chuck Norris emerged from the womb fully-formed: 200-odd lbs of ass-whuppin'). It was a grueling 45 minutes of the boy refusing to sleep or to let his parents sleep. And so, when at the end of his rope, and wanting to make sure The Uncommon Wife (who is suffering from some day-care-born mega-virus) was able to get some sleep, The Common Man returned The Boy to his crib, where he (The Boy, not The Common Man) began to wail incessently, at least until he realized that his father was getting himself a blanket and was planning to camp out on the floor.
Satisfied that he would no longer have to sleep alone, and that his best (non-verbal) efforts could no longer prevent the slumber of his parents, The Boy settled down at about 2:30. However, before finally shutting his eyes for the night, The Boy did kindly throw an extra blanket and a couple stuffed animals down to his father, so that he wouldn't get lonely or cold. And as The Common Man rested his weary crown on the head of The Boy's bear rug, listened to The Boy talk to his stuffed animals and then begin to snore, and folded himself for warmth under a fleece blanket meant for a two year-old, The Common Man thought, "well, this isn't so bad."
Obviously, he was delirious.