when I was a kid, my mom had this thing she did when she woke me up in the morning. she would walk her index finger and middle finger like legs up my arm and tickle me on the neck. I hated it. she called it the little man (very creative, my mom). It was our little thing, even if I did detest it. Actually, it wasn’t the tickling, but the fact that I had to wake up and get out of bed. If it were up to my internal clock, I would sleep until about 10 am and stay up ’till 2 or 3, but alas, Vanderbilt doesn’t approve of kind of work schedule.

Anyway, so completely turning into my mother, I do the same thing to Evan to wake him up in the morning. And he’s got just as much animosity to the little man as I did. This morning he rolled over, opened one eye and said “mommy, go away please. I’m very tired.” At least he’s more polite about it. I would grab my mom’s fingers and try to suffocate the little man.

All that to say that my son would be a night owl if I let him and I’m turning into my mother.