Sweet dreams, little man

At some point last night as I sat on the couch, mindlessly watching Cupcake Wars on tv, I had a visitor make his way into my lap.  He didn't say a word, just walked over and crawled up and sat down.  I covered his legs up with the ever-present fleece blanket, but didn't say a word.  For once, he was being quiet and still, so I just sat there with my 50 lb baby in my lap and breathed him in. 

A little while later,  I whispered a "thank you for coming to sit with me" in his ear, to which I received a whispered, "you're welcome". 

A little while later than that, I noticed the visitors breathing started to change.   I peeked around the head resting on my chest to see his eyelashes make one last effort to stay open and then close softly;  revealing the peaceful face of an angel. 

I could have gotten up at that point to carry him to bed, but I didn't.  These sweet moments are not as common any more.  No, I savored every minute of it.  My visitor stayed, sleeping peacefully on my lap.  My sweet baby boy, sweet dreams.