Deuces

 

deuces pic

 

I thought that things would be different.

Getting B to go to bed occasionally borders on ridiculous. Some of his exploits have been legend – wait for it- dary (word to Barney Stinson!). He’s a non-stop maniac.

Conversely. J has such a chill personality. I figured that once she hit the terrible twos, by comparison,  getting her to hit the sack every night would would be Easy Street.

As usual, I was wrong.

Take the the other night, for example. K had gone out, so it was just me with the kiddos. My routine evening was then, of course, interrupted by the Bedtime WTF Awards! The nominees are:

 

1) To encourage the kids to use the toilet before bed, we’ve been giving them little treats if they go potty. What a foolproof system, right? No possible room for loopholes.  So, with the promise of chocolate, B dutifully took a duty in one bathroom, and J took a tinkle in the other bathroom. After I gave them their chocolate, B said that he had to go again. He clearly just wanted another chocolate, and held in some poop, so he took off to the bathroom J was in previously.  Yeah, Maybe my system isn’t so foolproof, I know. J, upon realizing that there was a chance for more chocolate,  ripped off her diaper and took off to the bathroom that B was in before. I helped her onto to the toilet and had this conversation:

Me – ‘Do you have to pee?’

J (smiling, in a sing songy voice) – ‘Nooo.’

Me – ‘Do you have to poop?’

J (same goofy grinning singy voice) ‘Noo.’

Me – ‘So why are you here?’

Silence. Blank stare. Then she hopped down and walked away.

Huh.

Logic: 1, chocolate loving toddler: 0.

2) After the kids’ bowels were empty, it was story time! I asked B to pick a story. He looted his book shelf…and selected the one book that wasn’t a story. It was some educational phonics workbook. I told him to try again. He did some more looting…and, with a smirk, handed me the same workbook, but upside down.:

3) I figured that I’d stay upstairs and get some important work done. And by important work, I mean stretch out in my bed and watch Lebron James work his magic. The kids were in B’s room. Suddenly, J walked into my room. She had her nightie lifted up and was wearing a pull up diaper in such a way that it somehow looked like she had crotchless panties on. I walked her back to B’s room, and saw that B was trying on different pyjamas and pull ups. I don’t know, maybe he was walking the red carpet later and wanted to pick the right outfit.

Unfortunately for B, we were out of gold body paint, for his red carpet premiere.
Unfortunately for B, we were out of gold body paint, for his red carpet premiere.

4) Anyway, I got them dressed proper after that, and left.  All was quiet for a few minutes. J then walked in my room again, but with B following her. She closed my bathroom door,  closet door, and then my bedroom door behind her as she left. I got up, went to follow them, and saw that every door was closed upstairs.

Me – ‘What is J doing?’

B aka Captain Obvious – ‘She closed all the doors, dad.’

Me – ‘Why?’

More silence. More blank stares.

5) After getting them tucked in, I left to go back to my game. I could hear the kids talking. Not long after, B ran into the playroom. Said that he wanted a couple of toys. OK whatever. Not long after that, J walked by pulling this:

IMG_20140513_210101_535

 

I saw her loading it up with a bunch of random things. Cars, stuffed animals, a box. She then walked back with it to B’s room. Weird. At the next commercial, I went to see what the deal was. To say that it was a disaster would be an understatement. They had took apart a shoe rack from B’s closet. B had put blankets and pillows on a couple of rack pieces. He actually stacked two pieces so that one end was elevated up a bit. I have no idea what J had in mind. She had the pull toy on top of her rack, on top of her pillow. I stood there in shock, like my name was Jay-Z and my wife’s sister suddenly started pummelling me in an elevator. B climbed over the mess, wrapped himself in a blanket, and lied down on a rack:

B – ‘We made fancy beds!’

Me – ‘No more playing! No fancy beds!’

B – ‘But where can I sleep?’

Me – ‘In your bed!’

 

We tidied up a bit. Shockingly enough, they were fast asleep a few minutes later.

That night’s winner: Lebron. Doesn’t matter what the competition is, Lebron always wins.

That night’s loser: Me.

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