It was O' dark thirty and I could feel

the eyes staring at me. The eyes of a child. A child who no doubt was either sick - telling me someone else was sick - or they had a burning question that couldn't wait until morning to be answered.

In this case it was the need for an answer that woke me from my slumber while paper carriers were still out delivery their morning routes. A slumber so deep and satisfying that upon wakening, I had to wipe the tiny thread of slobber off the side of my cheek. I worked on focusing on the face of the staring child -- who in this case -- was Jacob.

And what question had woke him, forcing him to take his future happiness into his own hands to come ask me at this forsaken time of day?

"Hey, Mom, did you decide if we could get the Star Wars stamps at the post office?"

I'm thinking about it kid, but at this point, I wouldn't bring it up again. They don't even go on sale till May 25th, so we probably could have talked about this at another time --- say, DAYtime.