The other night I tucked both of my boys in bright and early.  Neither could breathe.  So I made them get back up and get into a steamy shower.  Ethan cried his best "I've-fallen-down-a-well-why-won't-anyone-come-to-save-me" cry and I just kept wondering why Derek couldn't just PICK HIM UP SO HE WOULD STOP CRYING.  It got so bad that I considered getting into the shower to hold him.  But as our shower has a 1.1 person maximum capacity and The Boy thinks he is 1.0 person who is entitled to be under the entire stream of the shower, I wasn't getting my 1.9 person body into the shower with the likes of the two of them. 

They got back into bed and that was the last I heard of them.  I went in at midnight to find The Boy draped around his father's head and shoulders like a cat and Derek's top half of his body sleeping on the nightstand and the bottom half of his body straddling 3 inches of bed. 

D:  Wha???
K:  Would you like me to move The Boy?
D:  If you wan'.

Next morning.

K:  Do you know that you were sleeping on the nightstand last night?
D:  I thought the bed seemed kind of hard.
K:  Really?  Because the entire top of your body was SLEEPING ON THE NIGHTSTAND.  A reality that one would think would be difficult to miss.
D:  I took a Benadryl last night. 

Just another Benadryl story to add to the list.