I’ve likened raising the Bean with trying to appease a drunk, mentally ill dictator who is off her meds. Mind you, she’s not like this all the time, but when she is, she is flat out convinced she rules the world and that we, her family, are simply here to cater to her every whim. Tonight was one of those nights.
This was the conversation I heard between her and the Hubs as he tried to put her to bed.
“Daddy- sing me “You Are My Sunshine.”
“No- not like that. Plug your nose and sing.”
“No– not like that. Plug your nose and sing it loud.”
“Now, rock me.”
“Start over singing AND rock me at same time.”
“No, you can’t leave yet. I’m not tired.”
“Well, if you leave now, I’m going to wake Scorch”
“Oh yes I am- you can’t stop me.”
At this point, the Hubs firmly tells her to go to bed and leaves to the room because he doesn’t want her to see him laughing at her craziness. I’m waiting in the hallway to see what she does next and sure enough, she comes out of her room.
Bean- bed. now.
“Fight me! I know Kung Fu!”
And, I kid you not, she started doing her best Kung Fu Panda moves across the floor. That’s when I had to leave the room because I was laughing too hard to say a word. The good news is, she never went to wake up her (blissfully) sleeping brother. The bad news is, I think she’s plotting new forms of torture for tomorrow night.