I Went to Bed Early Last Night

No, not early. Not like 8 or 9 or early. Something like that.
I'm talking 6pm early. I got my laptop out. Got into bed
with it (yeah, my laptop and I are intimate like that) and
then I fell sound asleep. Only to be awakened by my son
at 1am when he got in from his out of town football game.
(He's in the band, remember?) Bursting excitedly into my
room, and FLIPPING THE DAMN LIGHT ON.

Now, I love my son. More than my eyes. Or life. Or yes,
more than sleep. That is to say, that if I needed to wake up
because otherwise he was going to die, then I would be hap-
py to do so. Immediately. Every night. For the rest of my
life. No questions asked. However. A story about how a
new girl from another band who lives about forty-five min-
utes down the road just may have actually flirted with him?
(Which begs the question of, is it possible to tell with one of
those band drum helmet dohickeys on?), that story can wait
until Saturday morning.

But he gets so excited and secretly I guess I am glad that at
seventeen he still wants to tell me what's going on in his life.
Of course, that absolutely did not stop me from going into
his room at 8am this morning when he was in dead drowse,
bouncing up and down on HIS bed and announcing loudly,
SO, What's up! What're you doing today! After all, quid pro
quo baby.