It does not produce savory results.
First of all, you have to read a book. And while reading this book, you have to try to speed read as he turns the pages QUICKLY. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit, but he gets pissed when I can’t finish the whole page. And how does he know when I don’t? I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. It’s amazing. And scary. And annoying.
Secondly, you have to sing “Wheels on the Bus,” twenty times, with the motions. And you better not mess up the MOTIONS! It was really cute, however, when he decided to sing it by himself, albeit at the top of his lungs… “Wheels on bus go round and round, ROUND AND ROUND, ROUND AND ROUND… all through the towwwwnnnnnnnnn. Then we sang other songs, but I was so miserable at that time, I forget what we sang.
Thirdly, I get to hold my toddler down, against his will, so he’ll hold still long enough to start dozing. This is the worst. The kid is strong. Like, strangely strong. And ya gotta watch him, he bites! HARD.
Once I’m done with my WWE wrestling moves, I lie down, only to realize that I am now laying in a wet spot… I remember that milk that he had to bring to bed, and I begged and pleaded that he not. Yeah, there it is! Undrank, although I’m pretty sure I threatened him to an inch of his life if he didn’t drink it… Yeah. He is NOT scared of me. He does what he wants.
After all this, I commence to getting the living shit wollered out of me, but only after I’ve gotten comfortable. Head on my head, knee in my back, foot up my ass, finger in my ear, slobber on my neck…. On top of the whining because he wakes up and doesn’t have his pacifier. And I know I gotta look for that shit. It’s my responsibility. So ya know…
At around 4am, I’d had enough. He went to his bed (unknowingly), and I went and got in MY bed with my snoring husband. (Lesser of two evils, I suppose).
I have awoken this morning with a headache. Wonder where I got that from….