Here’s what happens when you have a cold and still refuse to go to bed at a reasonable hour and like a hamster burning the midnight oil on a wheel, you run up and down the hall until 11 p.m. even though you are not a nocturnal rodent and your parents have shut their door and are completely ignoring the pitter-patter of your feet… You wake up the next day at the crack of dawn, completely exhausted, and end up collapsing on the kitchen floor where you remain motionless and silent for two hours, except for the time you talk in your sleep saying, “I want a peanut butter ‘samwich,’ Mommy. I’m ‘hungee.’”