Another awesome Friday night

Boyfiend is at the Phillies game. I am having contractions of the Braxton Hicks variety. The Fiendling is screaming for me at his gate. Minutes ago, after the fourth time I went in there, we had a brief conversation that I found very unsatisfying.

Me: You have your trains, your teddy bear and your water. I’ve given you kisses and hugs and cuddles. I’ve rubbed your back and rubbed your forehead. I’ve held your hand and snuggled with you. It is 10.30 at night. It is time to go to sleep.

Fiendling: Don’t want to.

Now he’s yelling, “I’m sad.”