Matt wanted to attend our Homeowner's Association meeting last night, so shortly after dinner, Penny and I were alone.

No sweat, I figured. It was nearly bathtime; by the time her bath was over, it would be nearly time for me to start the bedtime routine.

So we played for a while, some silly game involving pretending to sleep on the guest bed. And then we got in the bath, and that went more or less as usual. Then, the bath ended.

There wasn't a towel in the bathroom. Of course she didn't want to wait while I went to get one. She followed me into her room while I retrieved her towel, complaining the whole way of how cold she was. "Go back into the bathroom where it's warmer," I told her. "P'incess!" she demanded.

So I wrapped the towel around her (she calls it her princess dress) and put her up on the changing table to get her dressed for bed.

"No diaper! No diaper!" she sobbed. Tough noogies, kid. You wanna ditch the diaper, you gotta show some interest in the potty.

I got the diaper and her pyjamas on her, and re-wrapped the towel around her, and we went downstairs. Went into the kitchen, and I got out her bedtime cup of milk.

"NO! NO MILK! NO MILK!"

... Sure. I put the milk back in the fridge.

The wailing intensified. "MILK! MILK! MILK!"

I took it back out.

"NO MILK! NO MILK!"

Isn't Two fun? I left the milk on the counter, and then poured her bedtime dose of Tylenol (she's still teething). She snatched at the medicine cup, but wouldn't drink it. I finally made her take the Tylenol, but she still didn't want the milk.

I went and got the comb and brush. She screamed and flung herself into a corner, trying to hide. So I had to brush her hair one-handed, with the other hand pulling her out of the corner enough that I could reach behind her.

The screaming continued. I shrugged, put away the brush and comb, and sat down on the couch. "MOMMY COME BACK!!!" If I went back in there, she'd just say, "NO MOMMY!" so I didn't waste the effort.

Eventually, she came out to the living room. "Daddy? Daddy? Daddy?"

"Daddy's gone on a trip, sweetie. He'll be back later."

"NO! Daddy!"

"Daddy went on a trip. You'll see him in the morning."

She went to the blinds and lifted them out of the way, as if expecting to find Matt lurking on the porch. She got more and more frantic, until finally I said, "Hey, you want to play with the moose?"

"AAAA--* Moose?" She went and found her moose hand-puppet, and I put it on, and the moose told her that Daddy had gone on a trip and that he'd be back soon. She actually believed the moose. The moose tickled under her chin, and she giggled.

Moose helped read two Clifford books, and then went with her to bed. By then, she was happy and cheerful, and perfectly happy to kiss me good night, and then lay down in her crib and go to sleep.

She woke up around 10:30, and Matt (who was home by then) went upstairs to try to settle her down. She told him, "NO MOMMY! MOMMY GO 'WAY!"

Matt said, "Mommy's not here, sweetheart. Mommy's downstairs, resting."

"...Mommy?"

Goofy baby.

--Liz