One evening, Son #2 was up late resisting sleep. My mom stopped by to pick up my brother and we all sat down to talk for a while. Son #2 toddled around the room fully aware that he had won the "night night" battle.
Suddenly, Son #2 spotted a moth flitting around the living room. He stopped to gaze at this tiny creature. A smile formed on his little mouth. He giggled and began to chase the moth.
The moth lilted from the sofa to the coffee table completely unaware of the danger that lay behind it. The moth lingered on the corner. Son #2 crept up to the moth and patted it lightly. The moth sailed away in fright. Fortunately, the frail moth was not damaged. Son #2 followed the moth's path with his eyes and watched it settle onto the piano. Then, he ran to catch the intriguing little creature with glee.
This game continued on for a while until I felt pity for the poor little moth. Gently, I scooped my avid moth chaser into my arms and cuddled him close to me. He sighed and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Then, Son #2 rested his head against my shoulder as he gave in to sleep.
Night night and sleep tight.
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