Dancing Queen

It’s bedtime. Just finished a glass of warm milk, looking at a book with mommy. First page: kitties on the roof. Second page: farm animals in the yard. Third page: little girl taking nap on her blanket….pause… “JaJa Hiya”

Whoah, rewind!

Three weeks ago you are screaming bloody murder, the boogie man is waiting in your crib.

Two weeks ago you were getting all sly on us.

We say this is the last book.

You say before we get to the last page “book, book, book” hoping the read-a-thon continues.
If that didn’t work you wanted the aquarium on. If we turned it on however, then the light goes out and we snuggle. After a couple of nights of this, you knew the aquarium means literally meant “lights out” and wouldn’t even ask for that.

Now your asking to go to bed?

Who are you and what have you done with our daughter? As soon as you see a picture of a child sleeping, you want to lie down and go to sleep.

We have too much time on our hands now. We don’t know what to do. We have the evenings to….clean.

Your monster molars aren’t even waking you up during the night; two on the bottom, one on top. Hang in there kid, the other is almost through. Are you sure those aren’t your adult teeth?

Our dancing queen loves music. At the dinner table, in the living room, what ever you do, for Pete’s sake don’t stop singing in the car. As the song fades out cutesy little “on, on, on” comes from the little blond as she enthusiastically shakes her hand at the stereo, eyes wide in the hope that another song is coming.

And if she falls while dancing, kiss the booboo. That makes everything better. From the slightest bump and scrape to the self inflicted punches to the head. Blowing on the booboo and kissing it makes everything better.

And do boost your morale, scarf down a piece of marzipan to boot.