Emails from Rachel

Context: Tommy went to sleep early last night.  Then he woke up shortly before midnight and wanted to play.  Rachel put him in his crib, but he didn't sound sleepy.  Rather than wait it out like the night before, I went to sleep on the couch and put earplugs in.

(Lest I sound like a terrible husband, I would like the record to show that I first volunteered to stay up and play with Tommy while Rachel went to bed, but this plan was turned down.)

Spoiler alert: the brisket turned out great.

Email 1: What a night (2:07 AM)

It is now 2 am. You are sleeping like a baby. Our baby isn't and hasn't been sleeping. Tried all the tricks I know and finally gave up and left the room. He's wailing. I don't have the energy to watch him play on the floor nor do I want to set a middle of the night precedent. Checked the smoker and then discovered that you'd locked the door back. Fan-freaking-tastic.

I pounded on the back door and then the front door (rang the door bell too!) for a while, but you blissfully slept. Wish I had that super power. Remembered that the garage door opener was in the car and got back inside. It was cold.

The baby is still crying and I want to too.

See you in the morning.

Email 2: Finally got the little man to sleep (2:56 AM)

He nursed in my arms for 40 min. Then checked the brisket. Unwrapped it and accidentally spilled the juices onto the fire putting it mostly out. Now I'm restarting the fire. Smells amazing, don't want to spoil it.