  The more tired P gets, the more rammy she is and the more difficult to put to bed. Yet the entire time she insists she isn't tired. She razzed, yelled, twirled, porcupined, armadilloed and basically made her bedtime routine as unbearable as possible for all concerned.
S got her upstairs, but he went off for his haircut so I directed the second act. Then I finally got her down and went in to shower, and when I came back to check on her she was all crying and snotty. Why are you crying? (hands P handkerchief -- blow! blow! ) There's too much noise in here! I'll turn the airconditioner down. I sat with her again. She jabbered on about various discomforts and injustices for about forty seconds and fell asleep so instantaneously that I wondered whether she actually had been asleep, and a cranky sleepwalker had been battling with me that whole time in her stead. Unfortunately I can't outlast her that much in the sleep sweepstakes. She wears me out like a marathon. Off to bed. 
