Resistance is Futile

At my brother's I help take care of the little ones while he and his wife recover from the safe delivery of their fourth child.  My godson, James, with his impish grin, reluctantly heads upstairs for his nap.  Tucked up in his big boy bed (he's had to vacate the crib!) he resists falling asleep.  Watching him on the video monitor I wonder why the young ones resist the nap their body so desperately needs.  He's in bed; he's out; he's at the window, calling for anyone to come and get him.  After a few minutes he climbs back into his bed and leans against the end where he can still see out the window.  Pretty soon his talking becomes a slight whisper, and I watch his head lean uncomfortably back, then still.  His body wins, and he casts himself down onto his mattress where delightful snoring begins. 

Back at my house, the work of the day is done and we both have accomplished what we wanted to.  Because it's Sunday, and we are feeling a healthy exhaustion from our day, my hubby suggests a nap.  Afternoon sun streams into the window creating a warm, cocoon-like feeling, and our eyes drift to closed.  My brain fights the nap, struggling with endless to-do lists, but my body succumbs to the warmth and I am asleep.  As James demonstrated earlier, resistance, in the case if the Sunday nap, is futile.