So Paolo has a new twin bed, thanks to Uncle Sam's returning all the tax dollars he tried to bleed from us last year. Paolo thought it was pretty sweet until I hopped in it with him to read books at bedtime. Then he realized his new bed rocks his face off. The morning after his first night in his new bed, he raced into my room shouting of my betrayal. When he fell asleep, I was in his room, and when he woke, I was not. And WTF is that all about?
"Paolo, there's not enough room for both of us to sleep there all night. I told you I was just going to read you books and later I'd go to my room. I told you that. Remember?"
"But there's enough room. We fit very good when we were reading books."
"Yes, but I need to come back to my room to take care of baby brother at night."
"We can put him in the middle. I'll be real careful and I won't even smush him."
"Paolo, then we'd definitely have too many people in your bed. We wouldn't all fit."
"Actually, you could get really skinny and then we could all fit."