It occurred to me that my choice on taking this gamble was somehow a reflection on how my priorities had shifted.
Obviously, they had. I just knew I had to be there for my child or my wife in the wee small hours of the morning. And I realized I wasn't just living for myself anymore.
The movie would always be there. So, too, you could argue, would be my family. But I guess I've learned about myself that there are responsibilities I can't or won't shirk.
If I'd known the boy had been sleeping through the night without incident, I could rely on a few good hours of sleep to get by on before I was needed.
But at the time, his sleep schedule had been uneven - including a few 2 a.m. screaming sessions.
Up until that point, my wife had been amazingly indulgent of her man/child of a husband, having given her blessings for previous midnight comic book movie premieres.
But I wasn't going to impose on her graciousness by watching a three-hour film aware of its potential consequences in the hours that would follow.
I chose not to go and I went to bed around midnight.
As it turned out, I guessed right. The boy woke up crying around 4:30 that morning and, after he was soothed, the two of us lay on the couch until sunrise - not quite asleep, but at least quiet and still.
The day wound up being a little hairy, but not the nightmare it could have been on one hour of sleep. All things considered, I considered that pretty super.
Contact writer Philip Maramba at phi...@dailymail.com or 304-348-1248.