The screaming woke me up from a dead sleep. My foggy mind sought clarity in the dark room. I was in my bed. Tim was next to me. But there was screaming. I jumped out of bed and hurried to the kids room, convinced I’d find a child covered in vomit or some other unpleasantness. My eyes adjusted to the dark room, and I saw only half of Baby E on the floor.

When we were staging the house we took Baby E’s bed out of the bedroom to make the room look larger and when we moved back in, we just decided to let him camp out on the floor, which he has enjoyed every evening. But at 2 am, in my confusion, I could only see half of him sticking out from under C’s bed. It took me but a moment to piece together that he must have rolled under there in his sleep and somehow became wedged. Sure enough as I bent down to retrieve him, I realized his oversized head was stuck between C’s mattress and the floor. It took a little maneuvering, but thankfully I got him free painlessly and readjusted him on his pillow. Tim and I stumbled back to bed, tossing and turning the rest of the night until our alarms insisted that we start our day.