Cereal Sleeper

He's fallen asleep in the cereal bowl.
He's snoring in bubbly milk,
With fruity-o's
Gettin' sucked up in his nose
And the bowl at a funny tilt. 

He's fallen asleep in the cereal bowl.
Been stayin' up late all week.
He got super tired,
but he kept himself wired,
To maintain his computer game streak. 

Now he's fallen asleep in the cereal bowl.
His hair's gettin' wet and soggy.
When I saw him face down
I thought, "hope he don't drown"
So I poked him
And he splashed like a froggy.

-B.C. Byron

I hear I had a bad habit of falling asleep in my food when I was a toddler. My parents have an old picture of me with my chubby little face plunked in a bowl of chocolate pudding, crusty dessert in my hair. It must have been a pretty busy time for me as a toddler because that apparently wasn’t the only time this happened. My Mom and Dad tell me that I was always dropping off into snoozeland in my breakfast or dinner. Little people can really wear themselves out and push themselves too far when they’re having fun, but they also have the advantage of being able to sleep pretty much anywhere. My oldest daughter used to yawn and yawn, all while insisting to me that she wasn’t tired and just needed a snack. I’m not sure how she confused her body signals for sleep with hunger signals, but I have a picture of her slumped on the couch with her eyes closed, hand stuffed deep into a bag of cheesy fish crackers. My second daughter used to fall asleep on the potty or bathroom floor. It was always amazing to me how they would be up bright an early and bouncing off the walls after sleeping in a pretzel shape with no blankets in these odd places, but just because you can bounce back easily doesn’t mean it’s good for you. Please try your best to pay attention to that tired feeling and to fall asleep in an actual bed when you can.

As an adult, I’m better at recognizing when I need sleep. Unfortunately, my ability to take a nap is much more limited as well, and I don’t have the odd superpower that children have of falling asleep in any location or crazy position. It seems the older I get, the more whimpy my body gets about sleeping conditions. I can barely rest in airplanes, even on a fifteen hour flight. My neck just can’t handle the weird positioning of airplane seats. I can’t sleep on long car rides, which is probably okay since I’m usually the one driving. Camping is a nightmare. I pretty much just expect to not sleep at all in a tent or camper. In fact, my middle-aged body has gotten so stinking picky that even sleeping at hotels is difficult. The pillows are too fluffy, or the blanket is too heavy, or the air conditioner is too noisy, or the people arguing in the next hotel room is bothering me. I’ve become finely tuned to my own bed, my own pillow, a certain temperature range of about 3 degrees, the sound of my wife’s breathing, and the exact hum of my house’s appliances. If any one of these variables is out of place, I’m tossing and turning all night.