An evening in reverse.

11:00pm. Emily wanders into our room. “I need a drink. my throat hurts.”
9:00ish. Emily finally stops screaming bloody murder. takes her blanket and pillow. goes up the stairs and goes to sleep. the husband and i breathe a sigh of relief.
8:45pm. Emily and the husband are in the laundry room. that’s where Emily is spending the night. on the floor. this is a trick we learned from our good friends. the idea of spending the night on the cold floor of the laundry room scared the shit out of Emily.
8:00pm. one last chance. we (well, i agreed. because i’m the softie. and there’s only so much crying and screaming a mother can listen to) agree to open the door and the shades if she’ll stop crying. i think – for a split second – that it might work. no go. door is closed. shades are shut.
7:30pm. her shades get closed. she’s getting unhappier and unhappier. and the screaming is getting worse.
7:15pm. her door gets closed. there’s too much screaming.
7:00pm. we take Emily upstairs. she’s still screaming. I try to reason with her. she’s 5. she should be the one i can reason with. no go. “I want dessert! I want dessert!” camera comes out once again. i taped the screaming fit for posterity (or for when she brings a boyfriend home). i will hold it for ransom.
6:30pm. dessert goes badly. we say no to dunkaroos. like any normal parent. yes, i want my child having cookies and and big ole’ tub of icing before bed. we give them a choice – 5 little candies or half a winkie. the boy isn’t happy. but, dessert of any kind is better than nothing. he shrugs and takes the candies. he enjoys them. not Emily.
Emily freaks out. the choices were not to her liking. she throws a full-out hot-blooded exorcism-like tantrum.
I tape it. because i can’t stop laughing. so, we tell her she can’t have dessert.

ah, the joys of parenting.