My son's favourite show is now on at midnight.
He's in bed by 9...
He's 19 months old.
We endure the serenade at bed-time of "Molly... Where You?" "Molly?" "Molllllllllllllyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?"
For us it's a bigger concern than just a little one. You'd figure the target audience of the Big Comfy couch is at least four hours in bed by the time midnight rolls around. There, now that I've had my chance for a 10-second cleanup of the things on my mind, I'm ready to stretch out and go to sleep, knowing that I've stood up for my little guy.
Sincerely
Callum's Dad.