Several times over the past few weeks, Juliette and I have been woken up in the wee hours of the morning by a small, slightly scared, slightly whiny voice telling us that he had a bad dream. At four in the morning we're usually pretty out of it, and as long as he's willing to go back to sleep we usually don't care if he's in his room. Thus, the above has become a somewhat common sight on the floor of our bedroom. The first few times this happened I'm sure he was telling the truth, but once he started showing up with an armload of pillows and blankets and stuffed animals, I'm pretty sure it had become an excuse. On the other hand, he usually sleeps past 7 on our floor, so I can't complain too much.