sleeping in socks

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.

"WaaahhhAAAHHHHH."

"What's wrong, dear?"

"fdkjal;jkreio"

"What??"

"jaksdlrjiopthei"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"socks"

"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.