Battle of the bedtimes

8.30pm.

He smiles, he grins, he winks, he peeps. With no intention of falling asleep.

"WX, lie down!" I exclaimed, for the 143,567,725th time. My eyelids were getting heavier. I rubbed my eyes, blinked, and looked at the gleeful toddler in front of me. Maybe I should just pin him down like what they do in the WWF so that he can't fidget around and will finally fall asleep.

9.00pm.

His head was down on the mattress, buttocks up, and he was doing some sort of crawl. Left, right, left, right, his bottom waved in the air. I grabbed his thighs and pulled. He landed flat on his tummy. He tried to get back into position but I moved at lighting speed, grabbed him by his armpits and turned him over.  I shoved his bolster at him, but he pushed it away. He wanted MINE. Exasperated, I gave it to him. The little clown couldn't even put his arms around it. He looked like he was doing a ninja warrior log grip and started to roll around the bed.

I took a deep..... deep..... breath. And then I did the most natural thing.

I lay down beside him, closed my eyes and fell asleep.

1.45am.

I woke up groggy, and there he was fast asleep. He must have had quite a party while I was out cold. He was stretched flat out like a star fish. He didn't even stir when I put on a long-sleeved jacket for him.

I must make the husband do the next bedtime.