Since you are reading this it is likely that you are at the “meet the parents” date. That means that your next date will be the “fantasy overnight date.” I have to warn you now that Tristan, like his father, is a violent sleeper. He is barely over three months old and we already know this about him. By the time he is 28 he may have been rehabilitated, but it is quite doubtful. You probably think we are kidding and exaggerating, but I present you concrete evidence below in the form of before and after snapshots.


This is not a one night occurrence either, we are at the stage now where nearly every morning we wake up to his crying. Crying not because his diaper is full or he is hungry, crying because he has one or more appendage — leg, arm, buttocks — trapped in the crib rails. We know this because when we move him back to the middle of the crib he immediately stops crying and gets a huge grin on his face like hey, thanks for getting me out of this little jam.

I feel I owe you an apology. This is entirely my fault. Jen and Katie can both spend a night under the covers and leave the bed looking barely slept in. I on the other hand can take the tightest hospital corners and deepest pocket fitted sheet and turn them into a shredded mess fit only for the rag bag during a power nap. — Okay, maybe I don’t understand the concept of a power nap, but for me it is two to four hours of uninterrupted midday sleep. — It is so bad the dogs would rather sleep in their crates than on my side of the bed for fear of being bludgeoned to death.

I just want you to know that you should not be put off by this. Jen and I have successfully shared a bed for many years since the introduction of the private sheet and later, private comforter. It is really a simple concept, when the bed is made, my side of the bed is fitted with its own twin sheet. I unleash my fury on it and Jen remains comfortable under her sheet. The private sheet actually started out as way to protect myself from the nightly slashing Onyx inflicted on me during her frequent rigor mortis episodes. — Onyx has always liked to sleep under the sheets, but she usually overheats in the middle of the night and stretches her entire body out to release heat, akin to pulling the rods from the core of a nuclear power plant. — The private sheet soon became private comforters when, on a trip to Denmark, we purchased two twin sized slices of heaven in the form of ultra light, divinely soft goose down feathers. — You will know we like you when we send away to Ofelia of Denmark for two of these as a wedding gift. If you are so unfortunate as to receive a domestically purchased king size “down” comforter, where the feather have spines, you should know that it is likely you will have a long painful relationship with your mother-in-law. — Ah feathers, where was I? Oh right, so the point is that you can have a successful marriage even with his spasmatic sleeping tendencies.

Now that I have veered off on enough “–” tangents so as to lose track of the “–‘s,” like I probably did during dinner tonight, enjoy your overnight date, but make sure to ask housekeeping to send up an extra sheet.



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