Ah, the magic (or not-so) number of 26.

First of all, I landed in bed early Sunday morning around 1:00 a.m. after celebrating my birthday. HDToddler was at babysitter's house. We picked him up around 9:15 (up at 8:30 ... why? HDH set alarm and it went off every 9 minutes for a half of an hour) because he was apparently pretty sick. Croup, cough, something.

Yesterday, HDToddler slept for the majority of the day while HDH, myself and our friend from out-of-town (who has been here since Wed) got the house in order for a Super Bowl we'd agreed to host for the residents and interns.

I spent the majority of the game sitting in a corner with HDToddler sitting in my lap, whimpering, while all the kids his age ran around the room like they were on crack. One little girl (who just turned three) was asked how old she was. She answered, "I can't know!!". She sang my son (who she referred to all night as 'that little boy') a very sweet song, too.

After everyone left, I drug Owen up to bed and told HDH and his friend that I was going there, too. It was 8:26.

About 9:00, phone rang (my brother). HDH took message and said I was sleeping.

9:26: I hear HDH's loud and obnoxious friend being, well, louder and more obnoxious. He woke up HDToddler. I went to the loft, gave the "This is really pissing me off look" and HDH told his friend to "fucking knock it off, man". It worked.

10:26: HDH comes to bed 20 minutes before, but at :26 says, "Hey, will you set the house alarm??" LET ME SLEEP WILL YOU???

12:26: HDT up with cough

2:26: HDT up with cough

4:26: HDT up with cough, starts talking to himself, and carries on quite the funny conversation. And by 'funny', I mean, 'this would be a lot cuter at 4:26 PM.

6:30: HDH is up and I have no memory of him leaving.

7:26: HDT wakes up, having his juice (or 'juuuuuuuu!'), yelling at the TV (you gotta love you some Blues Clues in the morning) and about ready to get tackled for a diaper change/new clothes.

I kid you not about the :26.