Celestial Navigation

The Boy is generally a good traveler.  He's content to sit in his seat and read books and look out his window and narrate everything he sees.  He can handle not eating normal food, at unusual times, and will even nap in the car.  But when his bedtime is messed up, that's when he loses it.

Messing up his bedtime once is not too bad, but messing it up repeatedly is a recipe for disaster.  I know this.  Chris believes me, but didn't really KNOW this about his child until this past week in Savannah, when our child missed his bedtime every night for 3 straight nights.

That meant that by Friday the Boy was at the very end of his rope o' tolerance.

We had planned to have dinner with Chris' Dad...but one thing led to another and we were delayed and delayed and delayed and at 6, the Boy was just losing it.  He was hungry and tired and had lost all sense of patience he may have had.

We were running to the bank and post office for Dad and Chris had parked at the post office and gotten out to pick up the mail for the store.  The sun was setting and it was setting right in our front windshield.  I had some sunglasses, but my child refuses to wear anything on his head or face so he had a face full of sunshine.

He was already mad.  The sunshine wasn't helping.  He was already having a big fit o' temper.  And the sun was so bright that he held his hands over his eyes in the midst of his fit.

After taking a deep breath, he looked at me and howled, "MAMA!  TURN OFF SUNSHINE!  TURN OFF!"

I have to admit, I laughed.  I felt awful for him, I understand that feeling of being so tired you just can't cope any more, but it was so funny.

We moved on.  I made the executive decision to skip dinner with Dad in favor of putting the Boy to bed at a decent hour.  When we were on our way back to the house, the sun had set and the Boy looked out his window and said, "Sunshine OFF!  Thank you, Mama."

I'm not sure what it says about me as a mother, that my child thinks I have the power to turn the sunshine on and off.