My son is Nigel Tufnel

The other night I witnessed something totally hilarious. It was a traumatic event for my wife and son, but the funniest things always involve the suffering of others.

I was downstairs watching TiVo after everyone else had gone to bed.

I heard the pitter-patter of little feet telling me that Sam had woken up and was running into our bedroom.

Sam either had to go potty or wanted some water, or wanted to get into our bed.

Regardless of the reason, Cyndy would be angry. Cyndy is a light sleeper and it takes her a few minutes to fall back asleep. She always keeps track of how many times the kids wake her up each night.

I paused the TiVo. If Cyndy heard me downstairs, I might be summoned to deal with Sam.

If Sam wanted water, Cyndy was going to call down to me.

I was very quiet.

If Sam wanted to get into our bed, I would hear struggle and conflict.

If Sam just needed to go potty, Cyndy would have to get up and follow him into the bathroom, stand behind him while he went, and then follow him into his bedroom and cover him up after he climbed into bed. At various points throughout the process, Sam would quickly turn his head around and look. If at any point, Cyndy was more than a foot behind him, I would hear Sam scream.

After what seemed like an eternity, I heard them talking in Sam's room. Their voices were growing agitated.

I got up and tip-toed to the bottom of the stairs. I made sure that I could jump out of the way without being seen if someone started to come down the stairs.

They were having "cover me up" issues. For some reason Sam, age 4, can not get into bed and pull the covers up by himself. We have to do it...

...just right.

Once you cover Sam up, the comforter has to be totally flat and smooth, with no lumps.

Also, the comforter has to completely cover the bed sheet so that no white is showing.

I listened as Cyndy got more and more frustrated and Sam got madder and madder. Sam was clearly half-asleep and wasn't making any sense.

Apparently, Sam wanted the comforter pulled up really far, but also didn't want it touching his ear. Cyndy's solution was to fold the top of the comforter, but Sam was not going to allow any folding.

As I stood there using my hand to hold back any audible giggles, I thought of a scene from "This Is Spinal Tap", where spoiled rocker Nigel Tufnel complains to his manager about the backstage food catering at a concert in Chapel Hill.