the mysteries of life

It is close to midnight, and you are watching TV with your dear spouse. Suddenly, from above, you think you hear someone crying. You make the trek toward the upper reaches, listening intently as you go. Identifying the offending room, you hesitate for a moment outside the door to get a feel for the goings-on of the inner sanctum.

J: I hate you! Stay away from me! I never want to be near you or share anything with you ever again!

You open the door slowly to avoid alerting T &J of your arrival - hoping for the sliver of possibility that your sense of sight will bear witness to a crime in progress. In the bottom bunk lies a mildly sobbing child who, though sobbing, appears to be fast asleep. Your eyes travel upward to the top bunk. Also appearing to be in the realm of dreams, a hyseterically laughing child rolls from side to side. Neither respond to your voice or touch - their breathing unlabored and deep. In mere moments, it is silent again. You walk out the door with prayers on your lips and anticipate the day when all questions will be answered.