Putting Isabella to bed last night. (In case you forgot, she’s five.)

Iz: Daddy, will you sleep with me? Please, please please.
Me: No, but, I’ll snuggle for a few minutes.
(I climb into bed.)

Iz: Could you scratch my back and sing Rockabye Baby?
Me: Sure… Rockabye Baby on the Tree Top…
(When I finish…)

Iz: Would you scratch my tummy, and sing Twinkle Twinkle?
Me: Ok. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star…
(…)

Iz: Scratch this leg. You Are My Sunshine.
(…)

Other leg. When You Wish Upon a Star.
This arm. Old MacDonald (animals A-M).
That arm. Old MacDonald (animals N-Z).
Head. Baby Mine.
Rub my toes. Row, Row, Row Your Boat.
Rub my fingers. Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.

I don’t know if she ran out of body parts first, or lullabies. But, she finally nestled under my shoulder and put her head on my chest. When I woke up about three hours later, I realized that she had lulled me to sleep as much as I lulled her.

She got her way. She’s sneaky.

The Face of Someone Who Always Gets Her Way