Earlier this evening, around six o'clock, while I was cooking meatballs, Jack came into the kitchen and announced that he was going to bed to "catch up on his sleep." I asked if he was in it for the duration or just taking a nap--in other words, if he wanted me to wake him in half an hour to eat. He opted I should.
I finished cooking the noodles right before I needed to leave for a guitar lesson, so I ran upstairs, told Biggy and Lo to stop slapboxing and go fix their plates, knocked on Jack's door, and scooted off to Ken Stanton.
Returning from my lesson, I noticed only two of the three plates I'd set out had been used. Jack was still asleep. I had barely enough time to eat something myself before Jack came downstairs, got himself a bowl and pulled a box of Captain Crunch from out of the pantry. I asked him, "Would you rather have some spaghetti?" He ignored me, poured a bowl of cereal, and sat down in the sunroom. A couple of minutes later, he asked me to go ahead and warm up the spaghetti, and so I did. He ate both.
In the meantime, I went up to help Lo get ready for bed. He was trudging back up the stairs as I came out of her room:
Jack: Mom, is it morning or night?
TR: It's night-time, Jack.
TR: Really. What did you think it was?
TR: Is that why you were eating the cereal?
TR: Well, if you thought it was morning, why the spaghetti too?
Jack: I looked at the clock wrong--saw a 6 instead of an 8. I thought I'd gotten up way too early and had lots of time before the bus. I also thought I'd missed dinner, so...
TR: You were gonna go ahead make that up?