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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