After putting O and S to bed, I took a little while to cuddle J before he fell asleep. When his moans trailed off and his eyes more or less permanently closed, I went to lay him down in the now quiet and dark nursery. From the corner I heard O's sweet voice, "Sebastian's car?"

He wanted to take S's little toy car to bed so I asked him where it was. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Do you know where Sebastian's car is?

O (in a Boston accent for no explicable reason): Yeah. I put it somewheh.

Me (all full of hope for a quick toy find): Where did you put it?

O (still from Boston): Sebastian had it and then he gave it to me and then I put it somewheh. I don't know wheh I put it. I put it somewheh.

We have a lot of conversations like this. So much time and empty hope could be saved if he just said no.

And the P.S. to this story? As I finished typing this post, I went back into the room to check on the boys. O informed me that he had found the car. Sigh of relief, until he used his very next exhale to say he didn't know wheh it was and that he put it somewheh. After putting my cheeks to some very dirty floors to look under some very huge fur/post-pregnancy hair loss hairballs, Bastian's car was found. In the car basket.