Picture it... a Monday night...
A just-turned-4-year-old sporting a Disney Princess nightgown does not want to go to bed, despite multiple warnings that it is already 30 minutes beyond her usual bedtime. She pulls out all her tricks to lengthen these moments,
"Mommy? I need one more hug."
"Daddy? I really miss you at bedtime."
"Mommy? I am very thirsty, may I have some water?"
"Daddy...."
"Mommy..."
She knows the one that always works, "I need to go potty again."
We have to let her get up to go potty, just in case.
This night, she goes potty and sloooowly washes her hands. She spies her new coconut scented shampoo on the counter, "Mommy, I want to smell my shampoo!"
Mommy's patience is all gone. "No, you may not. I said bed... NOW."
We teeter on the verge of a major meltdown, but narrowly escape as she unhappily crawls into bed. I tell her my goodnights, give her a final squeeze, and leave the room. Then I remove the shampoo from the bathroom counter and hide it, knowing her never-ceasing persistence will drive her little bare feet over there at the first chance.
Sure enough, we hear the telltale squeak of the floor upstairs, a mere 4 minutes later. I wait a moment, then yell upstairs, "Amelia! Get back in bed, please!"
Squeak squeak.
I go up to her room, just as she dives back under her polka dot sheets and pink butterfly quilt. I ask her what she had been doing.
"I wanted to smell my shampoo."
Grinning, naively claiming victory, I reply, "And you couldn't find it, could you?"
She sits up, her face aglow with pride. "But I did! I opened the cabinet and moved some things... and there it was! So I smelled it. Goodnight, Mommy."
I bolted from her room as fast as I could, suppressing a laugh. She did, after all, disobey me.
Does Mommy ever win?!?
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Definition #1 from Dictionary.com
Definition #2 from, well, me.
