Kids deserve at least ten years of complete innocence. Sometimes they’re not afforded that.

Thursday morning, 4:00 A.M.

We tiptoe into our four-year-old son, Matt’s room. We need to pick him up and transfer him asleep into the car.

“You do it. You’re better,” my wife, Lauren, whispers. This is not true. She always wins at Yeti in My Spaghetti. She just wants to be able to blame me later when he’s freaking out in the car.

Why 4:00A.M.? I’m a morning person.1I could not be less of a morning person. I should have been in a rock band.<—– CLICK ON THESE RED BOXES FOR MY TERRIBLE JOKES

I carry him down the stairs and out the garage.