Karen went to Florida this morning...so, Julian and I had the day together. We had an early start - we went to BJ's and got 11 out of 12 items on a shopping list, along with some other things that also caught my eye. We came back to the house and unloaded, and then went to Rockville for a haircut for him. That went incredibly well, so I had no qualms about bringing him to T.I. to see my mother, who had volunteered for their Purim Carnival. We beat her there, went on the moon bounce, and then went to find something resembling lunch. (Julian had half a hot dog, all of a hot dog roll, and a cup of pseudojuice. I had a knish.) She showed up and we had about half an hour's time together before she went to make something of her day. I took Julian home for a nap...or so I thought.

Julian has two dips in his biorhythm where he often thinks about going down for a nap: 10am and between 1-4pm. If we're in the car at those times, he'll often just conk out. Today he was clearly drowsy, but not out. As we went into T.I. around noonish, he said "Abba, I'm tired." - a phrase that never escapes his lips. Nevertheless, I'd promised him he'd see Savta Bobby, so we stayed. He didn't conk out on the way home, and I let him watch TV until 2pm or so, hoping he'd drift off. He showed all signs of exhaustion - drooping lids, staying in place, etc., but when I put him in his room he refused to stay down. He specifically took his cup of water and spit it all over the walls of his room. So, I let him out, even though I was in no shape to parent. He watched the rest of his movie, and then wanted to play. No can do. Eventually, while he was having a snack, Karen called and said "Why don't you call my mom? If she can come, she will..." So I did, and she showed up around 5:30pm or so.

I dropped them at the Cheezy Rat at around 6pm and went to run errands. I hit four places in under 1/2 hour, and went back to the Cheezy Rat. The two of them were sitting at a table; she said "He made his rounds of the place and then said he was hungry." Well, resolving hunger issues was one of the things I'd taken care of, so we left there, got real pizza, and came home. He ate half a piece of pizza and between four and five billion french fries, and then I put him to bed. He went in at 7:30pm, which if you consider the fact that he normally takes a 2-3 hour nap, it was 9:30 or 10:30 to him. He went right down, although he bitched mightily about it.

Now, the reason for my typing this is not to tell you my tale of woe (Not "whoa", Keanu), but to tell you of my brilliance. osewalrus and I have been discussing writing a book together, entitled MERCILESS DISCIPLINE: The Duct Tape Guide to Parenting. Harold wants to put a splash line on there that says (in large, friendly letters, of course) "The Only Parenting Book You'll Ever Need!" I called him today because I thought of the title for the sequel to Merciless Discipline, and we'd have to remove the splash line.

The sequel? You want the title? Okay: TWO DRINK MINIMUM