My daughter woke me around 11:50 last night. My wife and I had picked her up from her friend Sally’s birthday party, brought her home, and put her to bed. My wife went into the bedroom to read while I fell asleep watching the Braves game.

“Daddy,” she whispered, tugging my shirt sleeve. “Guess how old I’m going to be next month.”

“I don’t know, beauty,” I said as I slipped on my glasses. “How old?”

She smiled and held up four fingers.

It is 7:30 now. My wife and I have been up with her for almost 8 hours. She still refuses to tell us where she got them.

 

* * *

 

I begin tucking him into bed and he tells me, “Daddy check for monsters under my bed.” I look underneath for his amusement and see him, another him, under the bed, staring back at me quivering and whispering, “Daddy there’s somebody on my bed.”

 

* * *

 

I heard my mom calling me into the kitchen. As I was heading down the stairs I heard a whisper from the closet saying “Don’t go down there honey, I heard it too.”