Last night my husband was in Birmingham over night at some kind of worky-style conference thing. Ruby reckons his absence gives her licence to stay up late, muck about, make diva-eqsue demands of chocolate Nesquik in her Little Mermaid cup, and generally be a bit of a monkey about going to bed.
It’s the same every single time. I put her in bed, read her a story, kiss her goodnight and tuck her in. She waits until I have just poured myself a drink, fixed myself a snack (and it’s always something she’ll want to share) and sat down to watch a programme on TV that isn’t aired on the Disney Channel. Then, I’ll hear a pad pad pad down the stairs, a shuffle shuffle shuffle down the hall, and finally, she’ll poke her head round the door, and without saying anything, she’ll park herself on the sofa and ask for a quilt.
Last night I was watching 500 Days Of Summer when she decided to join me. She commented on a number of scenes (“They are in Ikea, Mummy”, “Why are they both in the shower, Mummy?”, “Can you sing it again, Mummy?” when I was singing the Hall and Oates song) but always went very quiet when I asked her to pop back upstairs to bed, or at the very least go to sleep on the sofa. Selective hearing, I reckon.
“I am sorry but I can’t” she said finally, with absolute certainty.
“Why ever not, poppet?”
“I can’t go to sleep, Mummy, because my eyes are not shut”
Well, you can’t argue with that.
It’s not just my kid who has comedic flair. You can read other gems from little treasures by clicking on this here link!