As I was getting ready to retire to bed last night, I heard a sudden, repeating sound coming from Miles’s room that was loud enough to make me jump. I darted over to his door and opened it to find Miles sitting straight up in bed, looking directly at me, and blowing quick, rhythmic raspberries through his lips. Yes, it appeared that Miles was doing some light midnight beatboxing.
It was funny for a moment, but after several seconds of relentless dope beats I started feeling a little unnerved by the whole display. I stepped over to Miles and said, “Hey, buddy…are you okay?”
He immediately stopped beatboxing and plopped back down to his pillow. A couple blinks and he was out cold.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 