All Beastie's Stuff.

It started out with me telling her it was time for bed.

"Good news!" I said, cheerily. "It's time for bed!"

She eyed me. "No, I think it's time for a party," she answered.

"Nope, time for bed! You can sleep with your Mickey blanket!"

"Time. For. PARTY!!!" she screamed.

And I, being the terrible permissive parent that I am, let her have a party. I wouldn't normally, but the baby was finally sleeping, after being awake and crabby all freakin' day, so I was like, whatever. Fine. Par-tay!

First, she handed me an imaginary piece of cake. I crammed it all in my mouth, and that set her off into a tantrum. (Cause, you know, it's bedtime, for crying out loud.) She lay down on her belly on the bedroom floor and cried. "You 'posed to have a 'poon!!" she yelled. "You can't eat it wike a mess! WAAAAAHHHH!"

"Fine," I said. "Can I please have a spoon?"

She stopped crying, handed me an imaginary spoon, then buried her face in her hands again, crying.

I saw where this was going.

"Can I please have a napkin?"

Crying stops. "Here you go," she says, hands me the invisible napkin, and resumes crying.

"Can I please have a glass of milk?"

Crying stops. "Here you go," she says, handing me the imaginary milk. Crying ensues.

"Can I please have a fork?"

Crying stops. "Here you go," she says, hands me the pretend fork, and continues crying.

At this point, I can't think of anything else I might need at this "party." So I start naming random stuff.

"Can I have a banana?"

"Here you go. [sob.]"

"Can I have a raincoat?"

"Here you go. [sob.]"

"Can I have a skateboard?"

"Here you go."

Suddenly she stopped crying and gave me a dirty look.

"Hey! No fair! You're takin' all my stuff!!"