This morning, Charlie got up with the children and let me have a few more minutes of heavenly shut eye. While I was starting to doze off and could feel myself slip in to that floaty peaceful place, I heard little footsteps come running down the hall and a small fist banging on our closed bedroom door.
"Mommy! Mommy! Are you in there?!"
"Mommy! It's not the big bad wolf ... it's me, WILLIAM!!"
I remained quiet, hopeful that if I didn't make a noise, he would be distracted and run away. But instead he continued to knock. When after a few minutes I didn't get up and open the door he dug deep in to his three-year-old lexicon and said "Mommy ... I have CAKE!"