I'm hiding on my bed in the dark trying to be as quiet as possible.
"Is there a psycho killer loose in your house?" You ask, hopefully quietly.
No, it's a three-year-old child who has relocated herself from her room to the couch. I foolishly said that if she actually pooped during the day, she could have sleep wherever she wanted to tonight. Usually she poops in her Pull-Up during the night, which leads to all sorts of shenanigans. Today, right before her bath, she pooped, and then declared that she was going to sleep on the couch.
All was good until she actually had to sleep on the couch. It's rather uncomfortable compared to a bed. She's been tossing, and turning, and telling me that I'm making too much noise, and that the light from my room is bugging her. I tried to convince her to go back into her room, but to no avail.
And a deal is a deal.
So I sit in the dark on a bed full of clean unfolded clothes wondering what makes parenthood so wonderful. Then I remember how she spent two hours singing "Let it Go" and dancing crazy-like across the living room. I guess it's worth it.
Crap, the furnace just clicked on.....
Keeping fingers crossed.