Mitch couldn't sleep tonight (my fault--I let him take too long a nap today) and kept coming out into the family room where I have been sitting quietly on the computer while everyone else sleeps, including John, who isn't feeling well. Finally, tired of taking him back to bed, I told Mitch he could lie on the couch if he could be quiet and keep his eyes closed. He tried very earnestly for about 15 minutes, doing that "I'm trying to keep my eyes shut squint/flutter" and occasionally opening one eye to check if I was looking.

After awhile, I decided I wanted some ice cream, so I got up and headed for the kitchen. Mitch sat bolt upright and said, "Where are you going, Mommy?" I told him, "I'm getting some ice cream." He nodded very seriously, looking completely aware that he had no place asking to share a delicious treat when he should be sleeping. So he didn't ask.

I got him some anyway, a tiny bit. And then I put a tiny bit of whipped cream on top.

I brought it into the family room and sat down next to him on the couch. "You shouldn't be eating ice cream at 11:00 at night," I told him. He stared back, unblinking. Then I said, "But sometimes, it's fun to do things you're not supposed to do."  And I handed him the bowl.

The wave of joy that rippled across my middle child's face made up for every twinge of frustration I'd felt tonight, hearing his bare feet padding down the hall every 10 minutes to deliver some excuse for being out of bed. His happiness was pure. Nothing matches the thrill of having mommy say yes when you are sure that she'll say no, so sure that you don't even ask.

A moment later, pausing in his zealous spoon scraping, he said, "Mommy? Why did you give me a treat?"  I shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes you deserve a treat for no reason at all."  And through a mouthful of Edy's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream topped with whipped cream, my sleepy, overjoyed, and too often exasperating three year old boy mumbled, "You said it!"