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In first or second grade, I object to going to bed. Sometimes it sounds like the adults are really laughing and having a good time.

"Hmmm." says my mother. She looks at my father.

"You can stay up." says my father.

I am suspicious. These adults are tricky. Where is the catch?

"You can stay up all night," says my father, "I will stay up with you. But....you have to go to school in the morning, even if you are tired.

"I can do that." I say. I don't have to listen to half the stuff at school anyhow. I already know it.

I am excited, but pretend not to be. My sister has to go to bed and I don't want her to clue in. She is three years younger and too little.

She goes to bed.

My parents are listening to music. Classical. They are not talking much. They are not laughing.

"Well, I think I will go to bed." says my mother. She kisses me and my father.

I am stubborn and stay up. Every so often I ask what time it is. My father has turned the music down very low so it will not bother my mother. We don't have a television. It's the 1960s.

"What time is it now?" I ask.

"12:10." says my father. "It's past midnight."

"Morning is 7:00?" I ask.

"Yes." says my father.

I yawn. "Can I go to bed?" I ask, a little shyly.

"Yes." says my father. "I might too then."

"Okay." I kiss him goodnight and go to bed. I am pretty tired in school the next day. I don't stay up late again at home for quite a while, because after all, I know what the adults do and it's pretty boring. And I can stay up all night if I want to......

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