Thanksgiving has always been a blur, even before Milo started running circles around the turkey. The cooking; the (occasional) cleaning; planes, trains and automobiles; relatives near and far; slipping in the older sister's (Mama) birthday with the younger sister's (Auntie Sarah) birthday; and Papa Charles has whirlwind stories of his own.

This year found three Paolettis, two Richardsons, one Paoletti-Richardson and one Niemeyer all together in the nation's beleaguered capitol, with an enormous turkey, a gorgeous table, a little Sinatra and a lot of scampering after the Milo-monkey.

Home last night, the little monkey's epic nap today told the story.

Of course, his parents would've been flat out themselves, if not for the ubercapable hands of Milo's grandparents, who prepared for two days of Milo management on the train. It's a good lesson: when Milo sleeps, you should sleep, too.

And all this snoozing pre-tryptophan-turkey. Wow!