This weekend I found out why my youngest son sleeps in his father's Kingsize bed when he could be sleeping in his own double bed, in his own huge bedroom and it has nothing to do with the slight differences in the sizes of their beds.

          In fact my son put it very plainly and simply, when his said, "...because the lady that sits in that chair ... all night scares me, and the only one that comes into daddy's room is that man... "  This was so ordinary to him that he never even looked up from his Nintendo DS or stopped moving his thumbs in rapid succession.

          Oh, right.  Silly me.  I mean...of course...the lady, the man.  Truthfully, to the casual observer, their father lives alone.  "Honey, can you tell me what the lady looks like?"

          "Yea," still playing the video game, "she looks a little like you."

          At that point, my older son piped up and explained that he thought he saw someone who might have been the same woman.  He explained that if it was, she has been hanging out there for years.  He had remembered seeing her as far back as when he was about four or five.  He remembered she used to stand in his doorway by the paper-plate spider that hung from the top of the doorway.  Then he told me that sometimes he would even call my name at night, thinking it was me, then give up when "I" didn't respond.

          So, this must be a great grand parent of the boys?  My oldest has been doing this easily for as long as he can remember?  I continue to be astounded at the ease with which they both handle the onslaught of images and information they receive.  My oldest son sometimes describes it like a conference that he has to tune out.  Sometimes I wonder what possesses me to reassure them.  Who am I after all.   I mean really, they are handling this gift with such finesse.  But...it is all they know.