Before I retire, I must relay to you a story of my six year-old, Benjamin, just in case you are having a bad hair day and need some "misery loves company" kind of consolation. Last night, while we all gathered around the livingroom for storytime (Harry Potter: The Goblet of Fire), I noticed Ben leaving, quietly, and going down to the basement. His attention span generally poops out after about the first fifteen minutes, so I gave it no further thought, and kept reading to Lily and Liam. About twenty minutes later, Ben sauntered back into the room, and when I casually inquired as to his whereabouts, he confessed that he'd snuck out of the house, in his pajamas and barefeet, and walked to his friend Pudge's to play. Now, folks, I am a rather laid-back sort of gal but this show of naughtiness sent me spiraling to depths I'd rather not visit again. Six years old- venturing out into the dark, to visit his five year old buddy, and we didn't even know he'd left the house. Call Social Services- I need a break.