Charlie hit us at 0500 hours.

My son woke up in a spectacular mood this morning.  Cheerful, giggling, ready to play.  At 5:00 a.m.

5:00 a.m. is an hour before I usually get up.  It may not seem like much difference, but it's an important hour.  I'm pretty sure that's the hour when all my best dreams happen.  (Doesn't it seem like all your good bedtime dreams are interrupted by the alarm clock?)

At first, I thought maybe my son would still let me sleep.  My husband got up to get him out of his crib and brought him upstairs to our bed, hoping maybe he would cuddle down and, if not nap, at least lay quietly with us.

I think he may have done that, but it was for such a brief period of time that it can't be observed in units larger than nanoseconds.

My son squirmed up next to me, giggling, and tangled his little legs and feet in the covers.  "Mama night-night?"

"Yes, baby, mama's trying to go night-night."

"I night-night!" he responded, and flopped onto my pillow.  He sprang right back up, like a cartoon character.  "Baby night-night!" he yelled, and grabbed his seahorse, laying it down on the pillow.  Then his baby was thirsty, and he had to share his sippy cup with it.  Until he was distracted by the scenery outside the window.

"Light!" he told me, pointing.

"Yes baby, there's street lights outside.  They're always there."

"Mama car!"

"Yes honey, mama's car's outside."

"Daddy car!"

"Yep, Daddy's car too."

"...Mimi car?"

"No, Mimi's car's at her house."

"...People?"  (During the day, there's a steady progression of pedestrians and dogs being walked outside our house.)

"No baby, all the people are asleep.  EVERYONE should be sleeping right now."

He handed me his seahorse.  "Mama baby?  Mama have it.  Night-night."

He's a sweet little guy.  Just so much energy.

Of course, he couldn't just let me sleep.  Because, obviously, I looked thirsty.  I felt a sippy cup shoved between my lips to clack against my teeth.  "Mama cup.  Mama have it."

While I appreciate the thought, I was not thirsty for backwashed milk.  My son realized this, and figured it must be because I was hungry.  "Mama eat?" I heard in warning, just a second before a little toddler fist shoved a piece of cereal in my mouth.

So...I'm up now.  Sleep just wasn't happening.

But now my son, the sweet little con-artist, is laying with his head on my leg, cuddling his seahorse under my blanket, lightly dozing.

Because I'm a good mom, I'm not looking forward to getting to wake him up for school in a few minutes.

I'm definitely not thinking of it as payback.