The bed time routine at my house has changed, much to my dismay. I had the great fortune of enjoying about a year and a half of a no-fuss, no-muss, night time ritual. But over the last few weeks, bed time at our house has become a bit more fussy.

I can’t say I blame the little guy. I have to agree with him that staying up and building rocket ships and cranes with tinker toys is much more fun than going to sleep. But sleep he must! He simply must!!

Each night the list of excuses grows a bit longer. Most nights I chuckle with the creativity he uses in trying to stay up even one more minute. But last night I was sick. And I was tired. So our exchange went like this:

Him: “I don’t like this bed. I want to sleep in your bed”

Me: “You can’t sleep in my bed, honey.”

Him: “But I don’t like this bed. I want to sleep in the baseball bed”

Me: “We don’t have a baseball bed.”

Him, crying: “Yes we DO!”

Me: “Really? Where?”

Him: “My tummy hurts”

Me: “Then you need to fall asleep and get some good rest so your tummy will feel better”

Him: “I have a splinter in my knee”

Me, pretending to take out a splinter that’s not even there in the first place: “All better! Now good night, sweetie. Sleep tight”

Him: “But mama, my (insert about six other excuses he tries to use to stay up … hair itches, back hurts, finger hurts, the blanket’s not on right …)

Me, begging: “V, mommy’s not feeling well. I really need to go and rest so that I can feel better”

Him, stroking my hand: “I’m sorry mama. I go to sleep now. Feel better cuz I love you”