Little, I am Your Father

Last night Honey put Little to bed. Little has really developed some bad sleeping habits over the past month, one of which is yelling after we leave her room. She yells, "I neeeeeed you." and "I don't WANT to go to sleep." There's more but thinking about it makes my head woozy so I'll move on.

Last night Honey put Little to bed and when he left the yelling commenced. Honey's response was to call through the door, "Little, stop screaming and go to sleep." Little's response was to yell, "I don't WANT to go to sleep." (I'll be right back. I need to lie down.)

Okay, then Honey said, "Little, I am your father and I am telling you to go to sleep. Obey."
What did our sweet daughter with the special brain say?

Using the sweetest tone and complete sincerity: "Oooh. Thank you for telling me that, Dad. You are my father. You are not my mother. You are not Bubba. Thank you for telling me that."

And she went to sleep.
That's the roller coaster we ride here at the Blue Hutch.

It's kinda like a variation of what Joseph says in the Bible, "You meant it for evil but God meant it for good." At our house it's, "Most folks would mean that to be smart and sarcastic but Little just meant it."