Dark or Milk?

I don't think we've had a solid night of sleep in over two years. Our little two-year-old caboose Logan comes up with some reason to wake up several times a night. And he's not demure about it. He literally wakes up shouting one of the following things:

• "MOM! Baba!" (needs a bottle refill--don't ask, it's sore spot)


• "Foot! Foot!" (the blanket is no longer covering his foot)


• "Heater ON! MOM! Heater ON!" (his personal space heater has shut off)

Last night he came up with a new one.

"CHOCOLATE! Want CHOCOLATE!"

This happened at about 4:00am, and Cathy went in to soothe him and assure him that he wasn't getting chocolate, and it was 4:00am. I guess he had a nightmare about chocolate. When I think of chocolate, I have a mixture of emotions. I think of fine Swiss or German-made milk chocolate that melts in your mouth. But sometimes I am overcome with images of orange-faced Oompa Loompas chanting. It's worse than clowns. Maybe that's what he was dreaming about.