Yeah...all this working late you are doing, while I schedule and train and listen to this "cry it out" method: You owe me. Not now, maybe not next week even (since Mother's Day is in fact coming up, but I let you off the hook!), maybe not even in a year. But one day, there will be a time when I get to look at you and say "remember honey, how our son started going to bed every night without a fuss? Remember how he took long naps allowing you peace and quiet to play video games all those years? Remember how well behaved (please xenu!) he was because he was so well rested? Yeah...pay up." 'Cause this shit ain't easy on me. So I'm saving up for a good one.
Like maybe when he comes home in a police cruiser, with the keys to the car...attached to a shard of the bumper.
Or when he is 16 and comes home to announce he and girlfriend Tiphani (oh how I loathe names like that!) are running away to join the emo-circus...yeah,