I rolled over early this morning, prepared to ask Justin to scoot over when I saw it.  The bed bug.  He had crawled in sometime in the middle of the night, dragging his blanket with him and leaving it on the floor.  Not wanting Justin to miss this, I poked him until he woke up.

“When did Rob crawl into bed?  Did I miss him crying?”

Justin muttered back something unintelligible, but I think it was along the lines of, “I don’t know, woman.  Let me sleep.”

Still not one to let Justin continue to sleep, I pressed on.  “Well, is he wet?  Is that why he’s here?”

Justin quickly assessed the situation, determined Robbie was dry, and happily passed him over to me when I asked.  Just a few minutes to cuddle.  Robbie nestled his head in the crook of my neck, flung his arm around me, and snuggled in.

He’s been doing this a lot lately; almost every night, actually.  Usually it’s because he needs new pajamas and sheets, but it doesn’t matter.  I love that he comes into our room and crawls into bed.  But, mostly, I love that he goes to Justin’s side first.  And I wish that we had a king size bed.