Youngest imp in a basket. The conversation went something like this:
Imp: "I'm sleeping here tonight."
Me: "No you're not." (I'm not very playful near bedtime.)
Husband Dear: "Why not? She's got everything she needs..."
Me: "This from the man who spent the entirety of the sleeping hours of his third grade year in an upholstered avocado green recliner. You also ate hot dogs every day for breakfast, but surely there are some things we do not wish to pass down to our offspring???"
Husband Dear: Sigh. "I guess not..."
After which, Husband Dear took our basketful of imp and deposited her in the designated sleeping place--her bed.
Ah parenting...
