There are three teenage boys sleeping in my living room as I write this. God knows what time they actually fell asleep. One is sleeping on the couch, one is in a sleeping bag on the floor, and my son is squeezed into the red club chair, his legs hanging over the side, covered in his favorite blue comforter.

They are snoring, drooling, generally lost in sleep.

I went to bed around 11 p.m. and they were, of course, awake. I woke up a few hours later, maybe 1:30 a.m., and they were still up. I said something like, "You guys should really think about going to sleep. You must be tired." One of them, a tall redhead said, "We’re teenagers, we never get tired."  The redhead was listening to thrash metal music  on an iBook, the other boy was noodling on an unplugged electric guitar, and my son was reading a Japanese pulp classic called, "Battle Royale," which, he explained, is about a class of junior high school students who are taken to a deserted island,  provided with arms and forced to kill one another.

The guys were together all day. They’re in a band called "Cruell and Unusual  Punishment" and they were recording some songs over at one of their apartments. They were particularly excited about a self-penned, acapella cut called: "Onomatopoeia."

I always know my son wants to ask me a favor when he says, "Hi Mom," in a really cute English accent. When he called at 10 p.m. last night asking if his two friends could sleep over in the living room (because my son’s bedroom is too small for sleepovers), I couldn’t say no. I probably should’ve because it looks like they’re going to be sleeping in the living room for most of the morning. But that’s okay.

They look so cute when they’re sleeping.

-Louise G. Crawford