Tucker and I recently started playing this little thing I call the “Sleep Game”.

Basically it amounts to one of us saying “sleeeeeeeepy” and feigning sleep. Then the other joins in the feigned sleep, usually with us both laying our heads down on each other. Then one of us will yell “Wake up!” (or the toddler version, which sounds more like “BA BAP!”) and we’ll both pop our heads up as if startled awake. He loves it, and will often giggle that infectious giggle of his, until tears are running down both of our cheeks.

At first it was just an excuse to have him cuddle up “asleep” on my shoulder when he was in a particular “I want to be held” kind of mood. I was the only one who called for wake up, but now he not only calls the commands too but we even play it in the car (not while I’m driving, I promise) as well as when goofing around the house together.

What can I say? I love to make him giggle. It’s the best.

Anyhow, the other day we were playing in his room together on the big bed that we set up in there for Grandma and Grandpa’s visit last week, and Tuck started up the game…

“Sleeeeeeepy…” he says.

We both drop our heads down on the bed’s pillows. Very comfy!

“Wake up!” he yells.

We both pop “awake,” and laugh.

“Sleeeeeepy… wake up! Sleeeeepy… wake up!” the game continues for a bit. I find myself wishing for longer periods before the “Wake up!” call. It just feels so nice to lay here with my eyes closed and…

…

The next thing I knew, I woke up.

For real.

And he was nowhere to be seen.

I don’t know how long I was asleep. I don’t even know whether he said “Wake up!” a final time or two, but I was just too comfortably asleep to hear him, and he gave up. More likely, he actually refrained from saying it at all at some point, and just let me drift off to sleep while he snuck away. I’ll never know, but I wouldn’t put it past him.

What I do know is that when I stumbled out of his room and into the living room, he was sitting on the floor in the middle of removing his pants. Surrounding him on the floor were at least a half-dozen spoons, a small cutting board and the bowl for our KitchenAid mixer. The TV had been turned on and was playing some show where everything is made of letters that spell out what they are.

When he saw me he stood up and tried to run, giggling, and tripped over his half-off clothing. No harm done, he rolled over onto his back and looked over at me.

“Dada sleeeeeepy?”

This kid kills me sometimes.