Putting a child to bed at a reasonable hour has never been my forte. Okay, it's at the bottom of the list, hovering slightly above ice sculpting and changing a flat tire.
He couldn't hang and he knew it. He had to crash. And I had to look the other way. Because of bro code.
How can she still be going? The dimples still dimpling, the eyes bluer than ever? "Emily -- nap time." Looks us straight in the eyes -- "My mommy doesn't like me to take naps." Absolutely perfect.