You know my smarty pants kid, right? Well, she doesn’t keep regular hours, mostly preferring to creep around the house in the deepest part of the night, like a spooky vampire or ghost and then sleep during the day. It is sort of like having a newborn who has their days and nights mixed up except she is eighteen and takes care of her own needs while still waking me up every two hours or so on her nightly sojourns. It’s not that she won’t get up if she has to. For example, we had to go somewhere the other day and she was up and ready to go. But her typical pattern kicked in while we were at the grocery store, the way jet lag will hit you when you least expect it and it floors you, and she slept in the coffee shop part of the store with her head on the table, sort of like a homeless person.