Insomniacs

It's nearly midnight. Oliver and I are upstairs playing on our laptops instead of sleeping like responsible people would be at this hour. About an hour ago I made my final rounds to check on the kids before I headed to bed, and I left Clara's door open a few inches so that I can hear her more easily if she wakes in the night. Lately Clara has been wanting her door closed "all the way, not almost," when she's in bed, so I always leave it closed until I'm sure she's asleep.

Just a few minutes ago we heard the unmistakable pattering of little feet, a door closing softly, and the sharp click of a lock turning. Oliver went to investigate and by the time he unlocked and opened the door Clara was back in bed. All he heard as he walked back out of the room was, "All the way."