When Young A was 15 months old, naps could be difficult. One particular day, he was extremely sleepy, so I tried to get him to sleep on any soft surface I could find--the bed, the crib, the couch. He refused. Sometime later, I found him sleeping on our pile of shoes.
Recently, we found Young T had
put himself to sleep, just like his older brother did. His ridiculous bed of choice was at the bottom of the stairs.
(If you ask my dad, I probably deserve it. As I child, I was known to sleep on the floor of my room just a few feet away from a perfectly good bed.)
Update: The Professor kindly supplied me with the appropriate picture from his childhood. I wanted to share it.