Caitlyn wasn’t ready for sleep, I guess, when I finished her lullabies and left her room last night. Instead of in bed, under blankets, she was across the room, with her books. After she’d quieted down and fallen asleep, I went in to check on her. She’d made it to her bed and was lying on her tummy, with her head off her mat and on the carpet. Her stuffed black and white “Tinker” cat was tucked under one arm; her other was splayed across If I Ran the Circus, which she had brought to bed.

It’s quite possible we have a bookworm on our hands. You are never too young to fall asleep with your books.