I first noticed it a few years ago, when our oldest son went away to college. I called him on his cell, and he (disrespectfully) let me know I'd woken him up. I looked at my watch. It was past noon. Well past.

When I (respectfully) pointed out that I, along with virtually every other decent person except for those who work the night shift, had been up for six hours, he scoffed at me. He informed me that he'd gone to bed after 3 a.m. and therefore wasn't, as I had (respectfully) suggested, lazy and hadn't been sleeping all that long. When I (respectfully) asked him why he'd been up until past 3 a.m., he told me that he and his friends usually stayed up much later, and it had actually been an early night. Then, understandably, I got disrespectful.

Since then, we've had another son go off to college, and we've found the same thing. Our 20-year-old and his friends seem to stay up so late that about the time he's turning out the lights, I'm reaching out and groggily hitting the snooze button, hoping for 91/2 more minutes of shut-eye.

My 15-year-old son, still at home, has started staying up later than my wife and I do. To be fair, he has a lot on his plate, with a full-time job killing ogres and collecting tokens in some imaginary online world. Most nights, when I go to bed, I yell out that he needs to be in bed within a half-hour, but let's face it, I don't have the ability to enforce that rule. Within a few minutes, we both know I'll be snoring so loudly my wife will have to whack me on the shoulder to get me to stop.

I've had a running argument all summer about bedtime, one that is getting no closer to resolution. Last week I pointed out that if I left it up to him, he'd stay up until dawn and sleep until dinner. He just stared at me, shrugged his shoulders, and said, "So?"

An entire generation of kids seems to be growing up like vampires, sleeping all day and staying out late at night. Even our 13-year-old daughters have started staying up later than we do.

Growing up, I had an early bedtime, 8 p.m., until high school. My parents said it was so I could get a good night's sleep, but I'm pretty sure that it was more closely tied to my dad's feelings about having nine kids: The less time he had to spend co-mingling before college, the better. And in the years since, I've had to get up early for school, for work or for kids, and often for all three. These days, when you'd think we'd get a little bit of break, my wife seems to get more energy every year, getting up early even on weekend mornings to exercise.

I remember sleeping late one weekend in 1984, but other than that, not so much. Having been deprived all my life of the luxury of sleeping in, I can't tell whether it's righteous indignation or just jealousy I feel when I see my kids do it.

The other day, I was on my way to a work meeting and stopped by my house at lunch time to get a sandwich. Coming in the front door, I had a sneaking suspicion that my 15-year-old son wasn't up yet. As I slammed the door, I called upstairs.

"I'm home from work!" I yelled. "Dinner will be ready soon!" I heard my son upstairs fall out of bed with a loud THUMP.

"You're not still in BED, are you?" I bellowed, knowing he had no clock in his room. "It's DINNER time!"

He stumbled down the steps, hastily dressed (shorts on inside out) and trying to look as alert as he could under the circumstances.

"No, Dad!" he said indignantly. "I've been up for like six hours! What's for dinner?"

He looked around the kitchen for a moment, trying to get his bearings. Then, he saw the clock. He turned and stomped back up the stairs, presumably back to bed.

"Jerk!" he called out. "I'll get you back!"

Maybe, but you have get up pretty early in the morning to trick dear old Dad.

I think I'm safe.