It's no big secret that fathers do things waaay differently than moms, especially when play and bedtime are involved. Last night was my latest lesson on this particular gender study.
At 8:30 pm, I was summoned to the very ER room I sat in all day with DadMan ten days ago. Exactly how I wanted to spend my Friday evening! But there was a minor family emergency involving a bad spill (the beer overfloweth and so did this particular loved one) and precautions were to be made. Everything and everyone checked out okay and we were able to write it off as a "better safe than sorry" incident. More could be elaborated upon and enjoyed but I will spare said loved one any further embarrassment.
Meanwhile, back at the nut house DadMan decided to forego the whole brush-your-teeth-read-a-few-stories-turn-out-the-light-sing-a-few-diddies-wrestle-tickle-snuggle-til-he-finally-gives-in-to-sleep extravaganza that I like to call bedtime. DadMan's version is let the overtired kid run himself into the ground until he craps out.
Brushing of the teeth? Hellz to the NO-O: he'll know what time it is.
PJs? P-shaw. Who needs 'em?
Going gently into the night? No way! It's a fight til the end. A fierce battle of willpower -- who will break first? Ultimately, DadMan did come out of this one victorious. After a good wrestling match and enduring twenty minutes or so of Dozer screaming like a wild banshee, that is.
And in case you were wondering earlier what I meant exactly by "running into the ground," here's a little video DadMan took of the exciting new activity he devised. I must say, it was pretty darned innovative. I never would have dreamt up this baby.
But right before bed? Is it really any wonder why it was such a struggle? I mean after all that bright fun new stimulation, who would want to sweetly resign themselves to slumber?
Kinda takes the laser pointer fun with the dog or cat to a whole new level, huh?