My new year's resolution (well, one of them) was to quit bitching about how the little angel never sleeps. The Good Lord must have been waiting for me to quit bitching, because she has slept more in the month of January than she had in the months of August through December, I swear. I will now most likely be struck dead for the hubris of even typing that. 

Anyway.

It has been a little hit or miss. Tuesday nights seems to be bad.  This is, consequently, the night I teach.  The little angel, she is a lover of both parents. Both parents must be present and paying attention to her at ALL TIMES.  One parent must not go persue independent interests at ANY TIME.  THE WORLD MUST REVOLVE AROUND THE ANGEL. DO YOU HEAR ME IN THE BACK?

One Tuesday night, last Tuesday night to be precise, it was my beloved's turn to deal with her in the wee hours.  He has not yet learned my approach, which is to go in to her room, look through her blankly as though she didn't exist, throw my pillow and the extra, fluffy white comforter on the floor and promptly go back to sleep. I like to model sleeping for her.  I have excellent technique from which she could really learn a lot.

My beloved makes the mistake of making direct eye contact, listening to her requests, etc.  This is how he was pulled into this conversation last Tuesday night.

Little Angel:  "MIL!  MIL!"

Beloved:  "No milk. It's night-time.  Here's your water.  Go to sleepy."

(dramatic pause - head pops back up)

Little Angel:  "READ BOOKS.  DADDY READ."

Beloved:  "No."

(head goes back down - sound of water being slurped and spilled all over bed from sippy cup)

Little Angel:  "CHANGE DIAPER."

This was the request that sort of threw him over the edge.  The little angel typically howls like a hyena if you try to change her diaper, secure in the knowledge that her diaper rash can only be cured by keeping the same sopping diaper in direct contact with her poor, mottled skin at ALL TIMES.  Her requesting a diaper change is akin to George Bush asking the American public for a little feedback. 

After he refused that one, she started crying until finally I yelled at him, hell, it's 4:30 a.m., just take her downstairs and give her the whole damn cow, I don't care, just MAKE THE NOISES GO AWAY.

So I guess, in a way, it worked.