Who's that sleeping in my bed?

So the evening went something like this --

The E-man once again shuns his new big-boy twin bed, announcing instead his plans to sleep with Tootie in her full-size bed. After a few minutes of giggling, however, Tootie declares that she doesn't want to sleep with her little brother.

"I want to sleep alone," she says.

So Tootie heads to the E-man's room and plops onto his bed.

This upsets the E-man, who wants to sleep with his sister, even though she has made it clear he is NOT welcome.

And the compromise worked out between these two determined little souls?

"Let's sleep in Mommy's bed!" Tootie suggests.

"OK! We sleep in Mommy's bed!" E-man agrees.

I stand, confused and defeated, while my tots, armed with blankies and pillows, accompanied by a small army of stuffed animals, make yet another bed switch that, yes indeedy, plants them squarely in the middle of the marital bed.

But dammit, at least they're finally asleep.

Two hours pass.

"So, what's the plan?" I ask Hubs. "Does this mean one of us gets the dog's bed? Remember, she's been scratching a lot lately. Fleas. Ick."

"You sleep with them in our bed and I'll take either Tootie or E-man's bed," Hubs replies.

"Or we can leave them in our room and each take a kid's bed," I say.

"Leave them in our room -- alone? Have you done gone and lost your mind? The last time we did that, E-man came out wearing tiger stripes across his face and head. Your eyeliner, remember? No, they can't be in there unsupervised," Hubs concluded.

"Hmm... you're right. I don't want my lipstick wiped out again either. But if we try to oust them we'll wake them up. Do you want them awakened at this time of night?"

"OK, let's think this one through."

So we wander around with our pillows, aimlessly, passing one another in the darkened hallway.

On our third -- or maybe fourth -- pass-through, Hubs grabs my arm, waggles his eyebrows and nods toward the E-man's room.

"We could both lay in there," he says, striding across the room and plopping into bed.

"It's a twin," I argue.

"So, we'll be stacked. We would be anyway with what I've got in mind."

"We are not desecrating the toddler's new big-boy bed. I want no part of it."

"Are you sure...?" he asks, patting a two-inch slice of bed suggestively.

"Are you telling me you could have sex in your toddler's big-boy bed, knowing that such actions could lead to the addition of another wee wandering non-slumberer a mere nine months from now? Remember, I may have skipped a pill or two..."

"You mean like -- a third baby?" Hubs splutters.

"Yep," I say, cheerily. "A. Third. Baby. A wailing, up-all-night-baby."

I smile seductively. Show a little leg.

"Um. Goodnight!" he calls. And he pulls the red sheets up firmly to his chin.