T+ 1 hour since bedtime. Four-year-old comes tramping down the stairs. Wife asks him why he keeps getting out of bed.
“Because I have things to tell you.”
She says, “Please save these things for morning.”
Pause. Thinking. He rejoins, “But it’s morning in China.”
And this is, yet again, why I am not the best at discipline. I crumble in the face of genius or creativity. I’m also ashamed to admit that he probably derived that bit of logic from my morning declarations of “it’s happy hour somewhere, glug-glug.” (Kidding. I don’t drink in the morning. Usually.)