4:44 a.m.

Every morning for the past four days at exactly 4:44 a.m., Troy has gotten out of bed and come downstairs.  He usually complains that he's scared and wants to get into the "big bed."  Most nights, I will hear his feet hit the floor upstairs and race to cut him off on the stairs before he makes it completely down.  I'll march him back up and make him go back to his own bed.  But frankly, it's getting exhausting, because I don't usually get back to sleep after these encounters.  Unlike Troy and his mother, I can't nod off 12 seconds after my head hits the pillow.

But what's truly remarkable about this story is that he has some very precise internal clock that wakes him up at exactly the same time every morning.  I don't mean it's around 4:44 a.m.  I mean it's at EXACTLY 4:44 a.m.  I have no idea what sets him off at that time every day, but it would be pretty impressive, if it wasn't so tiring.