One of my earliest underachievements in an academic career filled with them came at First Presbyterian Church kindergarten, where I failed naps.

There were mats. We were supposed to stay on them. I could not. 

My father was an excellent napper. I believe he perfected the art in medical school, although a stint in the army might have helped.

But I lacked the gift. Planes, trains, automobiles -- nothing could put me to sleep before bedtime.

Then I got old. Now I'm pretty good at it. 

Comments

[Lex]

My son has always been blessed with the ability to nap -- or, for that matter, fall asleep for the night -- pretty much anywhere, anytime, under any conditions. When he was 3, he once "disappeared," and Ann and I searched the house and yard high and low for him, shouting for him so loudly the neighbors heard. I finally found him curled up, asleep, on the office chair in my study, with one appendage dangling off each side of the chair, blissfully oblivious. Nowadays, at 11, he goes until he stops, and when he stops, he can fall asleep on a hardwood floor, sleep nine hours and wake up perfectly refreshed. I have a sleep disorder, so he has no idea how much I envy him.

[Dale]

Things change. I can sorta sleep looking at the screen. When I make it to the couch, it takes a long time for sleep to come.

In college, I could and did sleep anywhere. I once left a basketball game at halftime. If I hadn't, I would have crashed and landed on the people in the row in front of me.