GET BACK IN THE $#*@!!! BED

1. Eva, tonight: "Without chocolate, I COULDN'T LIVE"

-I feel the same way about red wine. Particularly on Fridays.

2. Eva, also tonight: "It doesn't matter if you win. It just matters that you participate."

-Uh, right. Guess I'll be counting on your sister for a wealthy retirement.

3. Speaking of Adele - we're starting to consider moving her from a crib to a bed.

You can pretty much cue the ominous music right about now.

Adder is not like Eva was at two and a half.

Eva would come out and ask for water and a pee and a kiss and all that procrastination jazz. But when we said GET BACK IN THE BED, she went.

Eva's head is full of lollipops and gumdrops. Flowers and pixie dust. Butterflies and Froot Loops.

Adele's head has those things, too. But it also has a healthy splash of spit and vinegar. Thumbtacks and pork rinds. Bees and All-Bran.

The side that WILL NEVER, EVER GIVE IN TO WEAK, INSIPID MORTALS.

This is the two year old who locked me outside the other day (see post from November 2). Who laughed uproariously while I frantically tried to get her to open the door, and only opened it once she saw the veins physically pop out of my forehead - threat of a certain coronary if the door didn't open RIGHT NOW.

THE CHILD OPENED THE DOOR IN AN ACT OF MERCY.

And granted the constant nightly freedom of a BED, I know that she will show NO MERCY.

Adele will be nothing but a curly-topped 26-pound BOOMERANG.

The only thing going against her is that she's just a little weiner. She's short enough that we could probably keep her in the cage - I mean, crib - until after Christmas.

But sooner or later, we'll have to make the switch. It's only a matter of time.

And she'll be ready.

Oh yes.

She'll be ready.

(cue high-pitched evil laugh...then more ominous music...then fade out for Mama's bedtime)