A thief in the night

Somewhere around 6:15 a.m.:

"Mom." It's the short boy whose name I can't remember at this hour because I was up all night with the older, sicker one.

"Mom." GGGGGRRRRHHH. He'll go away soon.

"Mom." He's not going anywhere.

"Mom ."

"Yes?"

"Mom."

"Yes?"

"Mom."

He's not a dumb kid. He wants to make sure I'm awake enough to understand him. It's an effective technique. "YES?"

"Something bad happened. I went to bed with my pants on and then I woke up this morning. LOOK WHAT HAPPENED!!!!" 

He shows me his bare little boy leg.

"SOMEONE STOLE MY PANTS!"