This is the state of my living room floor right now. I had two busy days of house cleaning, and then two busy days of recuperating from said house cleaning.

Yesterday, while in recovery mode, I laid down on the couch to try to coax The Boy into napping. This has been working great for the past few weeks. Besides offering a no-fight way to get him to sleep, it also gives me a chance to just lay down for awhile. I usually don't sleep when I take these afternoon breaks. Instead, I feign sleep until Alden dozes heavily enough for me to get up and do some housework.

But Alden didn't want to take a nap yesterday. I, on the other hand, feeling the serious effects of two strenuous days of scrubbing and two insomnia-laden, bathroom-trip-filled nights, passed out as soon as I closed my eyes. As he happily dug into his toy box, I drifted off into La-La Land.

My blissful sleep was interrupted by a funny sensation that didn't quite seem right in the context of the dream I was immersed in (picture a warm, sunny day on the deck of a sailboat in the Atlantic, and then proceed). I carefully opened my eyes to see my clever son looming over me with a serious look on his face and his toy pliers carefully pinched around my schnoz. His eyes widened as I opened my own, and then he whispered, "Excusee, Mom. I got your nose."

Excusee, indeed.