Because of course sleep would have to enter into it. Because these sudden hatreds come in threes when you're two: you reject safety, you reject nutrition, and you reject sleep. Saying "no" is where it's at!
And then I realized: last night (and the night before and the night before and the night before...) Westley performed a one-man show so tragic you'd think Shakespeare had had something to do with it; tonight, suddenly and for no apparent reason, bedtime seems to have gone off without a hitch. In fact, I haven't heard a peep from him in over an hour.
(Now if I could just get him to keep his shoes on in the car.)
I know birthdays are important milestones, especially when you're little, but it being Westley's "birthday eve" doesn't make up for weeks of sleep issues. Clearly, something's up. Either Westley is giving me an early gift for his birthday by putting himself back on his old bedtime routine, or else he's messing with me.
(He's messing with me, isn't he?)