Yesterday, we were SO behind with Thing 2’s nap time. I ran a couple of errands downtown, and I left the thirteen-year-old in charge of the two-year-old at home for a little bit.
(And when I came back?)
(People, the boy had completely cleaned the kitchen!! It wasn’t just a halfway job, or a I RINSED OUT MY CEREAL BOWL AND PUT IT IN THE SINK sort of job. It was LOOK! I TOOK A LESSON FROM CINDERELLA, AND THIS PLACE IS SPIT-SHINED. It was very possibly the best gift I’ve received in a decade.)
So, a couple of hours behind schedule, Thing 2 was ready to topple over with exhaustion, which is what happens when you mock your parents and get up at 4:45 in the morning. Normally, the toddler will NOT go to sleep when the boy rocks him, because the toddler is no dummy, and he knows the levels of authority around here.
As far as Thing 2’s concerned, the boy has no authority to place him under Nap Arrest, so he will fight it until the Apocalypse, because YOU’RE NOT MY PARENT, BUBBIE! Thing 2 is a challenge when it comes to sleep anyway, and if someone with less authority than Mama tries to put him in his toddler bed, he just quietly grins and whispers, “This is so NOT going to happen.”
Thing 2 was dadgum beat, and look what happened at 1:30 in the afternoon!
So… we woke him up at 3:30.
He got out of his bed. He blinked a couple of times. And he slowly shuffled, with just one eye barely opened, into the living room, where he crawled back up into Bubbie’s lap and WENT BACK TO SLEEP.
… I woke Thing 2 back up. It was paybacks for 4:45 in the morning.
Thing 2 sat right up and immediately launched into some long-winded story to his brother about the injustices of not being able to sleep when a person wants to. I tried to work up a little sympathy for him… and failed miserably.
Except when it’s 4:45 in the morning.
Y’all have a great weekend.