R. (I can't truthfully say "little R." Anyway, R. my son) woke me out of a glorious, sound, fathoms-deep sleep last night at 11:30 to tell me...that he couldn't sleep.
It's one thing to come and tell me that if I'm, say, watching TV downstairs. Then I might invite you to join me (although I'm a mean mom with adult tastes in TV, and probably not). But when I am lucky enough to be asleep? What am I going to do about it? Yes, it sucks when you can't sleep, but, but...am I a mean mom? I was pretty nice about it, but yeesh!
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