Paul was three or four and must have had a nightmare — or maybe he was just lonely. His mother and I had decided months earlier it would no longer be a good idea for him to sleep with us, but there was something about this night, about him standing there at the side of the bed, my side of the bed, that made me melt.
I don’t even think he said anything.
Do not send him back to his room and make him sleep alone.
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