Pillows, Chins and Cheeks

This morning on the way to daycare with my younger son:

"I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight," he says.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because my chin will hurt."

"Oh, really? How come your chin will hurt?"

"From the pillow."

"How come the pillow will hurt your chin?"

(I am already thinking at this point, that I will just have to share the story with you. I am eager to hear his response, and at the same time I am desperately trying to implant each word into my steel-vaulted memory bank.)

"Because I have to sleep on my belly, and put my chin on the pillow so it doesn't hurt up here," he says, and then takes both hands and digs into his cheek bones with his palms.

"Hmmmm." What else can I say?

"When I lie on my back it all goes up and so I have to sleep on my chin," he adds.

"We'll look at your cheeks later tonight and I'm sure we'll figure out some way to ensure you cheeks don't hurt while you sleep."

This evening, about 7:10:

"I can't walk upstairs," he declares.

"Why not?" I ask.

"It hurts too much on my leg. I'm going to have to stay here."

He cuddles up on our over-sized blue-grey couch, snuggled up between two over-sized blue-grey pillows.

Lying on his back, hands at his sides, chin in the air, he slips into a deep sleep.

I am sure his cheeks are comfortable and happy too.