Perfectly, Pleasantly Peculiar

Dear Hagen,

We have some family coming to stay with us for the holidays, so I'm going to mention this new thing you're doing as a matter of public safety:

One night last week, I walked to the bathroom in the middle of the night and discovered you had pulled your blanket and pillow off your bed and dragged them to the hallway, presumably so you could sleep with Ella. I thought it was so sweet, I just stepped over you and let you stay there. 

...but then it kept happening. And got weirder.

You pick a different spot in the house every night to crash after we've officially put you to bed. When I was working in LA, your dad called me and said, "I walked out to the top of the stairs, and Hagen was laid out in a diaper, fast asleep." "What did you do?" I asked. "Pulled him back here on the carpet."

When we put you back in bed, you don't stay there very long, and by our next bathroom break, you've relocated yourself somewhere in the house, and are once again asleep where we'd least expect it.

I've learned to do this sort of zombie shuffle through the dark living room, moving from the stairs to the bathroom without picking up my feet so I don't accidentally sleep on my second-born. I tripped over you coming out of the bathroom this morning and took a chunk of skin off my toe. You are an (adorable, but still) road hazard.

You'll notice that you're wearing a hat in most of those photos. You insist on wearing a hat every day, all day. When your teacher asks if she can take it off, you say, "No, tinks. 'On't want to." You even prefer to wear it when you sleep. I bought you a second one, just so we'd have something to rotate into your wardrobe when it was time to wash the other one. 

This week, you added a scarf (actually, a neck gaiter), thus raising the level of peculiar to a whole new level. I may or may not have described you to my mother as "Howard Hughes without the money."

Eh, if it makes you happy, do it. Sleep wherever you want, as long as you sleep. But please note the dog isn't giving up the good spot. 

Love,

Mom