So, we had put Brogan to bed and had already done at least one bed check. He wasn't asleep, yet, but some nights it takes him longer than others to doze off. As we do on most Friday nights, Jason and I settled in and started our movie. This week it was a somewhat violent selection: "The Eagle" with Channing Tatum.
About 20 minutes into our flick, as my Dad calls them, I heard some unusual rustling noises outside of the room we were in. I looked toward the door but didn't see anything so I chalked it up to Canyon (our 135-pound dog) getting comfy in his bed in our bedroom just across the hall. Another 5 minutes or so passed then I happened to catch something out of the corner of my eye. It was Brogan. He was laying on the floor outside of the room, peering through the cracked door, watching our movie. I nudged Jason and told him to look at the door. We were shocked and a little impressed at the same time. Then we became two little kids in church, struggling not to laugh while the pastor is speaking. There was no way we could let him see us crack even a hint of a smile for fear of encouraging this behavior. This was a road we did not want to go down on a regular basis.
We called Brogan into the room and he very innocently explained that he called for me (which he did--once) and, when I didn't come right away, he came looking for me. Apparently he only got as far as the door to our TV room and could make it no farther. I, on the other hand, had heard his one sing-song call for "Moooom-my" and assumed he had fallen asleep after that. Well, you do know what they say happens when you assume. Ha! Did he ever teach me! Another lesson learned. Courtesy of our sly little 3 year old.