He was out by 7:06pm, people.
7:06.
For the record, tonight he was suuuper cranky at 6:30pm, we skipped the bath, went straight to potty, toothbrushing and pajamas, only read three books, one more potty trip, and then Scott sang him to sleep in minutes (the last few of which included HAND).
The only thing I truly know is that I know nothing (or something like that).
We had dinner, watched TiVo, and the angels wept.
Tonight, as Jonah was protesting the bath, water running, Scott clearly frustrated, the boy writhing and squirming in tantrum mode and demanding to be picked up by mommy, I decide to intercede. At the moment of this changing of the bedtime guard, the naked boy climbs into my arms, winds his arms around my neck, buries the side of his face into my shoulder and shouts: “Listen! to! me!”