When Camm is asleep he has this remarkable gift of imagination. He truly believes he is a caveman and talks in that vernacular.
Here is one such night:
I was nearing the end of pregnancy and so was waking up several times a night to use the bathroom, roll to the other side to try to get comfortable, get a drink of water, etc. On this particular night, I got out of bed feeling terribly thirsty. I began to put on my slippers as I knew the kitchen floor is very chilly in the night. As I was putting them on, I was interrupted by Camm:
Camm: Moll[i]. You change costume now?
Me: No, I’m just putting on my slippers to go get a drink.
Camm: You me bring drink too?
Me: Sure Camm, I’d be happy to bring you a drink.
When I came back with the drink I handed it to Camm. Without saying a word, he sat up, held it tightly in one hand, stuck out his tongue, and proceeded to lap it up like a dog.
Naturally, I began to laugh.
Camm (with obvious angst in his voice): Moll! You no laugh at me.
I continued to laugh. Camm, being a sentimental night-time caveman, began to cry. He buried his head in the pillow and repeated several times “You no laugh at me. You no laugh at me”
Then, all of the sudden he stopped.
Camm: Moll. Water I drink. I pee bed?
Me: I don’t think so. You never have before.
Camm (in an almost high-pitched squeal): I pee bed. I pee bed.
And with that he ran to the bathroom.
I tried to fake sleep so as to avoid another Caveman Camm encounter upon his return.