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An unexpected late night phone call leaves me wide awake, listening to all the strange noises my normally quiet house is making. I’m irritated with the caller, who is now responsible for my insomnia yet had nothing important to say. Not that I was looking for anything in particular, but “I want to spend the rest of my life with you” would have been nice. A rather loud bump from the other room causes me to get out of bed and open my door. I open some blinds and look into the backyard, making sure there are no strangers or non-strangers creeping around outside my house. Finally, I’m up. Sleep will be impossible now. My boys have been asleep for hours, or so I thought. I figure I should check on them as well. A dim light is creeping out from under their bathroom door. I am now aware that the culprit is my ten year old son. I crack the door and peek inside. A shirtless boy with sagging jeans revealing the very top of his underwear is dancing around in front of the mirror, I-pod strapped onto his arm, and headphones in his ears. His too long hair is bouncing all over the place as he admires his rhythm while listening to who knows what. He's so cute. Interruption of this ritual would be incredibly rude. Quietly I close the door and retreat back to my bedroom. Sleep is slightly more attainable after knowing the cause of the bumps in the middle of the night. |