In all honesty, I have not lacked for sleep since Baby B entered the world. Waking up once in the middle of the night seems like a small price to pay for his joyous presence, and I usually fall right back to sleep after our 20 minute nursing session anyway.
However, it wasn't until tonight that I realized that B is not faring so well. I was sitting on the couch, much like I am now, with Baby B sleeping next to me. It is approximately 7:25pm. I went to the kitchen to get a bowl of salad and heard B call out from where he was sleeping on the smaller sofa. The following conversation ensued...
B: I've got to get up! (alarm and panic in his voice, rising from his place on the couch)
Me: Why? (holding bowl of salad, wondering why there is a sense of urgency in his voice)
B: I always take a shower in the morning! (glaring at me as if I am stupid)
Me: Are you kidding? (still holding bowl of salad)
B: No! (heading for bathroom)
Me: Seriously, are you joking? (now eating salad)
B: What? (still glaring)
Me: It's 7:25pm. (realizing he seriously thinks he's slept from tonight into tomorrow.)
B: (finally coming to)
Me: Did you really think I'd be eating a bowl of salad at 7:25am?
B: (smiles sheepishly. lays back down on couch)