My kids are sleeping underneath the kitchen table tonight. Their beds lie cold and empty while four children, sensible often, choose to very insensibly sleep on a cold ceramic tile floor.
Why? I haven’t figured that out yet. They think it’s fun and it didn’t hurt anything – besides, perhaps, their backs. And shoulders. And hips.
Oh wait, that would be me. Wouldn’t it be nice to do such things without paying for it? You know, in case you get the urge to sleep under the kitchen table?
Oh the minds and bodies of a child