Yesterday I mentioned that Caroline had spent the previous evening outsmarting some babysitters, which resulted in her not going to bed until after 9:30. Any of y’all without kids might think that means she slept late the next morning to make up for the sleep deficit…but you would be wrong.

P and I always know if it’s going to be a good day or a bad day by the way Caroline wakes up to greet the morning. On a good day, we wake to the sweet sounds of her talking to her menagerie of stuffed animals as she lies contentedly in bed. On a bad day, we wake to the whining, nails on a chalkboard sound of “Mama, Mama, MAMA!!!”. And when P goes in to get her, she tells him to just go away and leave her alone. It’s a lovely way to start the day.

So, at 6:30 yesterday morning when we woke to the sounds of a bad day gearing up in the next room, we were understandably thrilled.

Actually, for the most part, the day passed without incident. We had some friends over to play in the morning and only had to have a timeout once. Nobody ever said sharing the Cozy Coupe was easy.

Then, after a naptime which consisted of no nap because of her incredible ability to fight sleep at all costs, she went out to play in the backyard while P was working out there. Knowing that I needed to go to the store, he came in and told me that she was perfectly content playing so if I needed to slip off to the store to go ahead and go.

It took me all of two seconds to grab my keys and race to the car. I was so heady with excitement that I even decided to go to the more upscale, gourmet market located near our house instead of our average HEB. I love going to this market because they have everything you can imagine and it comforts me to know that if I ever decide I’m in need of whole, smoked white fish or exotic cheeses or one hundred and fifty different kinds of olives, that I can run around the corner and buy them. So, I went there even though the most exotic thing on my list was green beans.

I shopped leisurely without dispensing Chex Mix or donuts. I relished my time in the check out line knowing that I wouldn’t have to deal with my nemesis, that smug Buddy Buck. It was great.

Until…

I was walking out to the car when my cell phone rang. It was P calling to report that Caroline had discovered that I had gone to the store without her and flew into such a screaming fit that it seems she gave herself a bloody nose. Now normally, she couldn’t have cared less about missing a trip to the store if it meant that she was busy helping P do something, but in her sleep deprived, cranky, inconsolable state she came undone.

He said he carried her into the house because he was afraid the neighbors would think something really serious was happening because of all the screaming with the screams of the screaming, not to mention that she was totally freaking the dogs out, and put her in her timeout chair in her room. He told her that she needed to sit there until she could calm down and she just kept telling him to “Leave me alone”, so he did.

He said not even two minutes later it got quiet…too quiet. He walked into her room and this is what he discovered.

Sound asleep.

Now that’s what I call tired.

Bless her little fit throwing heart.

A few days ago, P and I were invited to a cookout at a friend’s house and then to go see Robert Earl Keen at a local dancehall. We gladly accepted the invitation to the cookout but declined the opportunity to go see Robert Earl because we are old combined with the fact that I’ve developed a mid-life allergy to cigarette smoke which may also be known as being sober in a bar and realizing how much smoke is actually in the air.

In addition to this compelling reason to not go see the concert, add the fact that someone was stabbed in this very bar within the last month.

So, last night we went attended the cookout portion of the evening. Now y’all may be wondering where Caroline was…and even if you’re not, I’m going to tell you anyway.

My friend that I work with has a 12 year old daughter who has been dying to babysit Caroline. She has been over here to visit a few times and Caroline loves her, but since we have Mimi and Bops living less than two miles away and the aforementioned fact that we are old and don’t get out much, we are rarely in need of a babysitter.

Anyway, I decided that since it was going to be a pretty short evening and we were going to be about a mile from home, we would let this girl babysit. Her mom brought her over and she had a little friend (and as I write “little friend”, I realize it confirms my old status because my mother used to always refer to us inviting a “little friend” somewhere and “little” obviously means young, not miniature) with her to help her out. Caroline was already bathed, in her pajamas, and pizza was on the way for all the girls to eat for dinner.

We left them playing with blocks and gave instructions to put Caroline to bed in about an hour because I am a naive fool.

Two hours later, we returned home to find Caroline still up and pretty much running the entire operation. She had convinced them that she couldn’t go to sleep unless they were in her room with her and also told them that she doesn’t have to ever brush her teeth…which is true.

Oh, I’m kidding. We brush her teeth at least twice a week.

I don’t know who was happier to see us, Caroline or those poor girls. As soon as I hit the door, I took charge of the situation and began the process of getting teeth brushed and Caroline into bed. The girls went into the kitchen to devour the pizza they hadn’t been able to eat because “Caroline didn’t really want us to eat”. Have mercy.

I don’t think they’re going to be begging to babysit again anytime soon.

Can’t say I blame them.

Last night, Caroline woke up crying. I went in her room to see what was wrong and she just kept saying, “I want to go…I want to go…”

I asked, “Where, where do you want to go?”

She said, “I want to go to Target.”

She is so my daughter.