A Deal is a Deal

I had a particularly difficult afternoon yesterday afternoon after fainting on the subway on my commute home (I’m fine) and then feeling pretty shitty from that entire ordeal that when bedtime rolled around I could not for the life of my handle another night of screaming.  So I pulled out the big guns and did what I had to do.  I promised Charlotte a lollipop if she promised to go to bed without a fight and sleep in her crib like a big girl all night long.  As I lowered her into the crib she was crying at me but she was saying “no red pop! purple pop!” and I said sure thing anything you want kid but please go the F to sleep.  She cried for maybe 90 seconds and was out like a light.

She woke up at 5:20 (not fucking ideal, but I’ll take it) and I walked into her room to get her and gave her my big morning welcome that I always do.  “Good morning my baby!!!”

She stood up in the crib, looked me dead in the face, and I shit you not, said, “where my pop.”  NOT EVEN A QUESTION.  More like a demand.  As if to say, well I slept in this damn crib so where is my promised reward?

I seriously almost choked on my laughter.  But, because I never said when I would give her the pop, I told her it would come after I got home from work today.  But now I really need to give this kid a lollipop or she’ll never trust my bribes again.

If I have to choose between rotten lollipop teeth or sleep, I’m choosing sleep.  I can get her veneers.