Piper will do about anything to avoid the inevitable surrender to bed time. It begins with a shower, which is always too hot and too cold.  If her teeth need brushed and I’m holding the toothpaste, she runs to her dad. If Dad has the hairbrush, Piper runs to me and begs me to wrestle her tangles. Until she decides I’m doing it wrong and runs back to Dad. And so it goes. Her stall tactics are epic.

Tonight she ran from the post bath lotioning ritual. “I need a hug, Mom. Dad’s putting on too much lotion. I’m all slick!” Piper slid into my lap.

“Ah,” she exhaled, wrapping my arms around her. “That’s the sugar!”