It’s too dark.
It’s too bright.
I heard a noise that sounded like Darth Vader trying to destroy our kitchen.
I need to floss.
I need to wipe.
I need to sit in the hallway with a flashlight and organize my two million Pokemon cards.
My finger hurts.
My eye hurts.
My spine hurts. Oh, wait, I meant my kidneys. No, wait, my spine. Kidneys. Spine. Kidneys. Sp…hey, can I have a peanut butter sandwich? With no crusts on it?
I don’t want to go to sleep tonight.
I don’t want to go to school tomorrow.
I don’t want to go to that one place we went to that one time on that one day because I lost a staring contest with that one guy who was wearing a Wiggles shirt and now he wants to chase me and push me down so my face gets rocks on it. So, can we not go there again, ever? And you know I’m not talking about that one place we went to that one day that has those crayons, right? Because I like that one place. But not the other one. The other one is lame-o.
I heard a bump.
I heard a crash.
I heard you and Daddy watching “American Idol” and I just wanted to know if Simon liked anyone today.
My pillow fell down.
My other pillow fell down.
My other other pillow fell down. Because I was cannonballing off my bed. Because I had to rescue my other pillows. Because they were all the way over in the corner. Because I couldn’t reach them when I stood on my nightstand. Because I needed a really long rope. Because I was trying not to bother you.
I’m not sleepy.
I’m not tired.
I’m not ready for bed.
I’m not going to leave until you come upstairs and tuck me in again. I know, but you must have done it wrong last time. You need to do a total re-tuck. And this time—I’ll stay in bed, mommy.