I generally go to bed with Paul, sleep for 1-2 hours and then stay up until about 6 in the morning when I crawl back into bed with him. This evening though, the season premiere of ER was on right when P wanted to go to bed, so I tucked him in, Mineral Ice-d his back and went to watch my stories (can you BELIEVE that Sam is letting Luka go just cause she's paranoid?!). About 20 minutes later I hear this pathetic whimpering and I'm a bit confused, cause Smeagol is sitting on my lap and the whimpering is coming from behind me. I turn around, and there is my Pauly standing in the bedroom door in his undershorts with his hair all crazy and a (in my family when you stick your lower lip out to indicate distress, we call that making a shovel) major shovel on his face...
Me - "Baby? What's wrong?"
Him - Stamps his little foot a bit - "I need cuddles. And reassurance."
He just hurts my heart with his cuteness. We just really are two halves of a whole.
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