Preston fell asleep this afternoon. Boy do I hate it when that happens. As a result, he is still awake . . . it is almost ten. We brought him up to the guest bedroom so he wouldn't bother Stockton. I let him read in bed. I was trying to do laundry. After being interrupted for the thousandth time (okay, probably the eighth time) I was getting frustrated. Preston called out again, "Mom! Do you know where my water bottle is?" I groaned, "No!" He came into my room and said so sweetly, "You have to know, you're mommy." Man, how sweet is that? One water bottle, two stories, three hugs and a billion kisses later . . . he is still awake. Oh, I just heard a yawn! Hopefully he is down for the night because I am tired . . . and I love it.
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