Last night I was awaken by a little girl standing next to my bed. She was clearly still asleep, swaying unsteadily, but her objective was clear: cry loudly until her Daddy agrees to following to her bedroom to sleep on the mattress on the floor next to her bed. I had been confronted by such late night terrorists in the past and knew they did not listen to reason nor respond to counter demands. I submit quickly. I followed the tiny child through the darkly lit corridor to the room where I would be held prisoner for the remainder of the night, under the close watch of the girl in the light blue pajamas. As I lay, attempting to find comfort under the miniature Winnie…