sometimes, you…. what?

Sometimes, you will find that since you tucked him in to bed five hours ago, your eldest son has taken off his pajamas and switched into a polo with two breast pockets into which he has stuffed the entire contents of his froggy-bank*, and is jingle-jangling his way across the bed in his sleep while his subconscious struggles to reject the lesson that it’s not actually possible to get comfortable with nine dollars in change trying to dig its way through each side of your ribcage.

* Llike a piggy bank, but greener and more amphibious.
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