My son has inherited my night owl gene. It's 10:56 p.m., and he's saying he's not ready to go to bed. He's not even showing signs of being sleepy.
Remember that song about the farmer who had a dog named Bingo? Well, he's making up his own version of it.
"There was a farmer who had a race car, and Mopar was his name-o."
What's really frustrating is that I was ready to go to bed about a half hour ago.
Maybe we can play a new game. I'll tell him that we'll race to see who can go to sleep fastest. I think I know who will win ... and it ain't the little man!
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