Little Guy has this amazing internal clock. I had one too before I got all old-farty.
If we have to go somewhere in the morning, I tell him what time he has to get up. If he has to be up at 6am, he's awake at 5:55. If he has to be up at 7am, he's awake at 6:55. I go to knock on his door, and he's already up and dressed.
He's going to be 22 on Wednesday, and it hasn't failed him yet.
Since he finished culinary school last fall and we haven't found him a job so far, he basically sleeps until 10 unless we have something scheduled.
Last week, Hubby had to go out of town for a few days for a conference. He scheduled his day so that he didn't have to hurry to drive there. Of course we let Little Guy know in advance so he would be prepared and wouldn't stress out.
I usually stumble out of bed at 4 or 5am. And since I'm the first one up, I make coffee.
I walked in through the living room on my way to the kitchen, and Little Guy was fully dressed, sitting in the dark. Scared the heck out of me.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "Are you ok?"
"I wanted to be sure to be up and give Dad a hug goodbye. I was sleeping last time he went away."
Could anything be sweeter than that?