The bedtime routine in our family is a long-drawn out affair much like applying wart medication. It must be done with care, the same way each time, or excruciating pain develops.
The Rabbit requires the following:
Bath, followed by two chapters of a "surprise book" while nursing her nightnight snack, then careful placement of her 4.3 trillion stuffed animals on the floor, and then three songs sung to lull her princess self to sleep.
Here's what has been going on recently as The Prince's job requires him to work 18 hours a day:
Bath, followed by tantrum as Mama has poured water in her eyes again, followed by one short-ass book, and NO snack. Then Mama throws all stuffed animals on floor while Rabbit brushes her teeth in other room, then songs sung and a quick kiss so Mama can race back to finish work and pound popcorn.
Tonight The Rabbit called 10 minutes after I left to tell me how much her life has changed. (Yes, you may gag. It's my child, and it made me gag.) I turned to my usual 3 million kisses on her face gambit, which usually works to get her back into bed, and me out of the room. She stiffen however, sat straight up, and said: "Wait a minute. I smell popcorn. YOU get a snack? And I don't?"
That's right kid. Some people get to enjoy the popcorn of life. And others just get to smell it.