Another bedtime massacre brought to you by the Yoys
Big E was in his playroom playing with his train set. I left him in there to change Little E's diaper and change him into his jammies.
Little E had other plans. I got him into a clean diaper without incident, but the pajamas were a different story.
Every time I stuck one of his feet into one leg of the bottoms, he would twist over and pull his foot out. He did this for about five minutes.
I started laughing out of frustration. Then I started sweating. LITTLE E! I yelled out his name. He looked at me with the most serious of stares. I pleaded with him.
Please let me put your jammies on! Please!
Around the time I'm hitting record levels of frustration with Little E, I hear Big E start yelling something about his trains.
Big E came running up the stairs yelling something over and over.
THERE'S A BEE ON MY TRAIN TRACK!
COME SEE IT, MOMMY!
He is now rattling the gate and yelling at me. See Ma'am, I've never seen that happen...
I put Little E on the floor and open the gate to let Big E in. But, you see, he doesn't want in. He wants me to come down and look at the stupid bee.
First of all, I know for a fact it is not a bee. We forever have a random fly in our house. It's never the same fly, but there is always one. Just flying around. Annoying the hell out of everyone.
I saw it earlier in the playroom.
So, I'm not really concerned that there is a bee harassing my kid in his playroom. But for the record, even if it was a bee, there was no way I was going down there to check it out. I would lock myself in my room and wait for Mr. Yoy to come home and save the day.
But Big E won't let it go. So I'm back on the floor trying to wrestle Little E into his pajamas and I'm about to lose it.
Big E is hovering over me whining about the bee and his train. As a bonus, I noticed that Big E pooped while he was playing downstairs.
Good lord! Everyone stop talking, moving, pooping, etc. and let me do my job!
I finally get Little E into his pajamas and get him into bed. No book tonight, Mrs. Yoy is done.
Ditto for Big E.
And now, the sweet sound of silence.