It’s His Fault

 

Well, blog readers, it feels like it has been years.

And if you want someone to blame- blame this little fella

who has decided

 

 

that he won’t go to bed

before 11pm,

and that, after an hour,

all naps must be spent in my arms with his face pressed against me.

What’s that you say?

You can’t be mad at him?

You only want to pick him up and squeeze his juicy goodness and chew on his cheeks?

You see my dilemma.