Penny didn't want to change into her pyjamas last night. "Do you want to go up and get into your PJs?" I asked.

"No!" She ran away from me. (Penny, unlike many near-2-year-olds, actually uses the word "yes" when she means yes, and "no" when she means no. I don't expect that to last too long.)

You know, I swore I wouldn't give my kid a choice if I'd already chosen for them. I need to stop asking if she wants to do things like that, and change it to, "It's time to..."

Anyway, she said no and ran away. But! It was time for PJs. So I made a game of it. I grabbed her wrists and hoisted her into the air, which she loves, and set her down on the lowest step.

She giggled, and her knees buckled. So I hoisted her up another step. She actually stood on that one, but wasn't interested in continuing the climb. So I hoisted her all the way up the stairs like that, one or two steps at a time, while she giggled.

I got her on the changing table, and took off her clothes, changed her diaper, and got the PJs on her. While I was fastening the snaps, she grabbed the tube of diaper ointment and squooshed it (which I didn't object to, because parenting is all about picking your battles, and as long as she's not taking the cap off the tube, then squooshing it is a very minor annoyance) and then threw it with all her might at the shelf, knocking a couple of other tubes and things onto the floor.

"Hey! Hey! Don't do that!" I said. I picked up the various fallen things and put them away again.

"Hey, hey," Penny said. "Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey."

It was so funny, I had to laugh. "Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey!" I said, tickling her.

She squealed in delight, and said it again. We hey-hey'ed at each other for a good five minutes.

Then I let her go play in our bedroom, on our bed for a while. She stood up and deliberately fell on her face. And she ran toward the edges of the bed so I'd grab her PJs and pull her over to stop her. And when I flopped on the bed, she climbed on me.

And she played follow-the-leader kicking (in which she lifts both legs straight up in the air, and then I copy her, and then she kicks both feet down at the same time, and then I copy her, and then she giggles because my kick makes the bed bounce. And then we start over. This game, it is good for my abs.)

And when I couldn't take any more of that game, I played steamroller, rolling back and forth, pretending to try to squash her flat, which she thought was just about the funniest game in town.

My intention had been to get Penny into her PJs, and play with her a little so Matt could get some breathing space. (Penny has been Daddy's Girl lately, and she has been taking 90% of her play and book-reading requests straight to him. Which he mostly doesn't mind, being an awesome dad, but everyone can occasionally use a little time to breathe and check their e-mail.)

And suddenly there he was, having come upstairs to see what all the laughing and shrieking was about, and half an hour had gone by, and it was time to go back downstairs and have a cup of milk and read some books to wind down for bed.

That was fun.

--Liz