You probably came to this post imagining some unromantic moment between husband and wife. You aren't too far off in some respects (we have three small kids, so there are a lot of those).
But, really, it is about T.
I was called to his bed by a despondent two-year-old at two a.m.
"What's wrong, dear?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"It's two in the morning... what about socks?"
"I NEEEEEED them".
"Honey, people don't sleep in socks. See? I don't sleep in socks."
(the following in the sweetest, most forlorn voice)
"but I dooooo."
Well, I was tired, but it's hard to argue with this kind of logic. So, I dug around in the dark in his bed, found the socks, pulled them over his feet and the two of us fell back to sleep snuggled in his bed.
Two-year-olds are wonderful for that.