I checked in on Devin this morning, and he wasn't in bed. Daddy was already downstairs, so I assumed he'd gotten Devin up.
I went to the basement for some clothes, and when I came back up to the kitchen, I asked Daddy what he'd done with Devin. "I left him in bed," he told me.
I assumed I was mistaken and that Devin must have been in bed under the covers, and I ran upstairs to check on him. I was beginning to experience a bit of panic then. He wasn't in his bed at all. Confused, panicked, I started looking for him in the upstairs bathroom and our bedroom. He wasn't there, either. Big Panic time! Who could have taken him? My mind raced ahead to calling police!
Then, I heard a muffled Devin cry.
I went back to his room. I could hear him crying, but I couldn't see him. I checked the closet, and in all the corners of his room. I realized the cry was coming from beneath his toddler bed. I lifted it up and there he was.
He was still pretty tired. There's only about 6 to 8 inches under his toddler bed. I don't know how he scooched under there in his sleep, but I think it probably was not the best sleep of his life.
In other Devin news, he's being transitioned to a toddler room at the daycare. The teachers like to hold him and call him Peanut...