Every summer growing up the jets would fly over our house. There was a touch and go strip a few miles away where the Navy would practice. They flew so close to our tree tops that it sounded like Velcro ripping off the branches. They were loud and often practiced well into our bedtimes. Personally, I loved it. I’ve always liked lights and loud noises when trying to fall asleep—it distracts me from thinking. Baloney, however, did not and would always start crying. “I can’t sleep!” he’d screech and then punch his pillow. He was the baby, though, so he cried at every little noise that kept him up. He’d cry if the dog was barking. He’d cry if the T.V. was too loud. The funniest was when he cried because he heard Mom and Dad having sex. “I’m gonna be sick!” he screeched and then punched his pillow. Actually, I cried that night too.