Daddy Dogpile

At 5:30 am the other morning while I was pedaling fast, yet going nowhere on my stationary bike, I heard my husband mumble some inaudible words as he rolled out of our bed that was also being occupied by two-thirds of our daughters.

After a, "Huh?" and a "What?" I realized that he was trying to relay the message, "I'm going to sleep the last hour of my morning next to Isaac."

I'm not quite sure how it happened, maybe he was sleep walking, or maybe he made an accidental right instead of a left, but he ended up in the half-pink, half-mint green room that belongs to the two-thirds of our daughters that were sharing our bed.

So cute to see a man all cuddled up, wrapped to his neck in flannel princess sheets and a soft, fluffy, pink comforter hugging his body.

Even cuter is to walk in and find the man all cuddled up in flannel princess sheets, a soft, fluffy pink comforter, AND all three of his daughters whom quietly followed him in.

And so much for my hour of peace and alone time that same afternoon. As if they didn't want me to feel left out, they decided to nap on my bed.