When we’re staying in a hotel room with only two beds, my wife and I split up. One of us shares a bed with one son, and the other shares with the other son. Otherwise, they keep each other up all night.

Why do they keep each other up all night, you ask? One son kicks and the other squirms.

I ended up with the kicker this past Saturday night, which is actually not so bad. All I do is set a pillow between us and I’m good to go. Occasionally, I’ll wake up when he gives the pillow a really good smack, but I go right back to sleep.

This time, however, things didn’t go so well. My daddy-sense kicked me wide awake in the middle of the night, just in time to spot my son standing upright on the bed, his eyes closed and head slumped to one side.

While I processed this vision, he took a step towards the edge of the bed.

I hissed his name and grabbed him, then put him back in bed and tucked the covers tightly around him.

He never woke up, which is sort of ironic, considering I never got back to sleep.

I’m just glad he doesn’t sleep on the top bunk.