Tired maybe, but still very crafty

Declan was making his typical plea to avoid bed time earlier this week when he decided to add a little flare to his routine. I had been responding to his verbal barrage with my standard defense and reminded him of how grumpy he was in the mornings when he didn't get to bed on time.

"But that's because you wake me up too early!" he demanded for what felt like the 100th night in a row. When I rolled my eyes in an unimpressed fashion he must have realized it was time to change things up.

Declan threw back the covers and quickly shot to his feet on the bed, surprisingly handling the wobbly surface quite well. Before I could verbalize my irritation with his reversal of our bed time progress, he broke into dance.

"Look at this... What about this..." he muttered as his arms shots in and out from his body, his knees chattered and hips gyrated, acting out what appeared to be no less then 35 dance moves all at the same time.

I struggled to maintain my look of displeasure and lost it completely when he began speaking about himself in the third person.

"Does tired Declan look like this?" he asked before beginning what appeared to be a breakdance move.

It took me a few moments, but I eventually regained my composure and got him back under the covers.

"It's not how you are now that concerns me. It's 'Tired Morning Declan' that I want to avoid. You control his grumpiness, like you did those dance moves, and we can talk about a later bed time," I said as I tucked him in for the second time.

Declan responded by attempting to strangle me with a good night hug, one he knew could only be broken by some form of tickling.