And It’s The Thought That Counts . . . I Guess

This was my exchange with my son this morning:

Him:  (Coming into my bedroom.)  “It’s time to get up!”

Me:  (Checking the clock.)  “Yes . . . yes it is.”

Him:  “Wait . . . I forgot I was going to let you sleep this morning.  Go back to sleep!”

Me:  (Mentally shrugging.)  “Sure . . . why not?  If you need anything, come get me, okay?”

Him:  “Okay.”  (Half-second pause.)  “Can you open my blinds?”

Me:  (Mentally telling myself that I knew it would be something.)  “Of course.”

Him:  (After I’ve gotten out of bed to open his blinds.)  “Now go back to bed.”

Me:  “Okay.”  (Goes back to bed and waits for it.)

Him:  “I have one neat thing to tell you first . . .”

Me:  “Tell me.”

Him:  (After he tells me.)  “Now go to sleep.”

Me:  “Okay.”  (Waits for it.)

Him:  (An uncertain number of minutes later.)  “It’s too hot in my room.  Can you close my blinds?”

Me:  “Of course.”

Him:  (After I’ve gotten out of bed to close his blinds.)  “Now go back to bed.”

Me:  “Okay.”  (Goes back to bed and waits for it.)

Him:  (Another uncertain number of minutes later.)  “I think it’s time for you to get out of bed now.”

Me:  “You know what?  You’re probably right.”  (Gets out of bed.)

Him:  “Wait!  Maybe you need more sleep!”

Me:  (Smirking.)  “I think I’ll just make some coffee instead . . . but thanks for the thought.”

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