Jim caught an 8-something am train, Charlie went to sleep at 9.30am in his brown chair.
The landscapers came to mow the lawn at noon and Charlie woke up and we got a burrito and nachos and he very precisely ate the part he likes (yes, guacamole; no, cheese or dairy which is just as well) and handed me the platter with a grin.
He paced around, he ran around, he ended up back in the chair and was snoozing at 4pm.
Calling his name, me going outside to dig up some overgrown shrubbery, a honking car, did not wake him.
At 7.30 pm, Charlie got up, said 'bedtime.' And went to bed.
Granted, he hasn't really spent much time in his bed for the past couple of nights and none at all Tuesday night, which he passed in pacing and standing and hanging out with Jim.
Who, I must be honest!, Got not one lick o' sleep Tuesday night but I hear he had two rockin' intro to theology classes.
Anticipating Charlie waking at 1am (i.e., any moment), I was content only to pull out just the one shrub and started writing, in earnest, about Charlie and Homer. Yes, quite the matchup.