Writing will be brief this morning. Why? Here’s a brief recap of the last 12 hours:

• Just before 9 p.m., Ryan went to bed after watching the first period of the Sharks-Blues game
• Just after 9 p.m., Ryan emerged from his room to tell me he was “nervous” about the Lightning game. The game was more than half over, and the Lightning had only five shots on goal. It seems that the threat of a team having less than 10 shots on goal in an entire game is as bad as a team having 30 shots in one period.
• A few minutes after I convinced Ryan to return to bed, I go upstairs to check on him. He is staring at his iPad, refreshing the box score of the Tampa Bay game, fretting as the shots total does not climb above five while the second period clock ticks down.
• We do our best to convince Ryan it will be alright, that the Lightning will get to 10 shots, and that he needs to go to sleep. He asks us to leave the room, but leave the iPad. We refuse. He is soon asleep.
• At 3:45 a.m., Ryan gets up to use the bathroom, loudly. I hear him, because I have only recently climbed into bed myself, having fallen asleep on the couch working on a project due today, while checking the Lightning game and tweeting updates of their shots on goal total. They finish with 13. Elsewhere, the Sharks lose. One meltdown averted, one possibly coming.

• At 5:45 a.m., Ryan goes downstairs (loudly) and then comes back up (loudly). He bursts into our room with a paper for school that must be signed rightthisverysecond. Veronica sleepily looks over the paper. It is a permission form to buy supplies for a science project. She took Ryan shopping for said supplies last weekend.
• At 5:50 a.m., Ryan succeeds in his third attempt to get Veronica to sign rightthisverysecond. He tells us he cannot go back to sleep and asks if he can go downstairs. We say yes.
• At 5:55 a.m., Ryan returns to our room, carrying a carton of half-and-half and asking if it is milk. The only milk we have is a paper one-quart container, same as the half-and-half. We tell him this, and lie back down, hoping he did not just drink an entire glass of cream (he didn’t).
• Over the next 10 minutes, Ryan makes approximately 173 trips up and down the stairs, to retrieve … we have no idea.
• At 6:10 a.m. Veronica and I agree we probably need to put Ryan back on some sort of medication. We are dreading this thought. We rise to begin our day.

So, how was your night?