It was 6:30 AM and I had just finished getting dressed for work, but when I passed by my son Ian's room, I noticed he wasn't in his bed-- instead, he was sitting in a laundry basket, ostensibly staring out the window, and since he's usually still sleeping when I leave for work, I wondered if this was a normal early-morning-ritual (he looked very meditative, especially with the early morning sun streaming through the window) and so I asked him if he normally pondered the oncoming day from the comfort of a half-full laundry basket-- which I found rather creepy, especially since it appeared he was going to be sucked into the light (run to the light, Carol Ann!) but it was something much more mundane: the laundry basket happened to be in front of his bookshelf, and he wasn't looking out the window in a contemplative state, he was perusing his collection of books, deciding which to read in bed, because he had woken up so early.
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