There are few things in life as cute as a sleeping child.

Exhibit A:

Brussels sprouts. Fair enough.


Exhibit B:

Another couple inches and his gut could be a pillow.


Exhibit ZZZZZZZ:

Chum chweet.

But what the heck do they dream about? I mean, at the ripe old age of two, what could Max possibly have to conjure up in his subatomic little egghead?

Everyone dreams, and Max surely is no exception. He often has night terrors, waking during the wee hours to scream out “mommy!” or “daddy!” in sheer toddler terror, then falling off to sleep once again.

But last night, around 3am, we heard him scream something else. Something that revealed the unfathomable depths of his munchkin mind. In a burst of pure rage, he yelled…


Followed by a solid thump on the wall, probably a fist or a skull, then silence until 8am.

Frightened the living shit out of us. But damn it was worth it. Amusing – and informative! Santa will appreciate the tip.