Mallory is just about the worst kid you can imagine in terms of going to bed. We put her to sleep at 8:30 and she's up, she wants to pee, she wants to pee again, she wants a drink, she wants to poo, she wants to tell me a secret, she wants me to sleep with her, and on and on. I think she is down for the night now and it is almost 10 p.m.
When I was growing up I had a babysitter named Patty Gray. I don't remember a thing about her except that I can still hear her as clear as day in my mind saying "Carrie, you are just stalling for time!" As a kid I don't think I even understood where she was getting at but now that I have Mallory... it makes perfect sense.
It's karma. I deserve it.
(Deserving to have to clean her up after an ice cream? Not so much.)
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