Mom: Ben, why on earth were you sleeping two inches from your reading light last night? I walked in your room to check on you and couldn't believe you hadn't already caught the house on fire! [Which is true, and I did turn the light off just as soon as I could run downstairs to grab the camera to capture the photo of my bizarro son's sleeping arrangement for a blog post... since if his hair hadn't caught on fire already I figured that another 30 seconds wasn't going to make a difference]
Ben: It was the only way I could fall asleep. It was so warm.
I can't make too much fun of my son's baby-chick-like sleep habits, though, I feel exactly the same way about the electric blanket that Steve gave me for Christmas. He insists is so hot that the bed will spontaneously combust and frequently reads excerpts from the "user's guide" for me - 9 pages about the blanket's superb safety unless misused or abused or folded or twisted or sat upon or, in Steve's mind, turned up to the "H" setting. I'm just saying that if the blanket has a setting above 10, that's clearly the temperature that should be selected. After all, "It goes to 11" :)