The conversation at bedtime last night:
Me: Miles, you need to lay down. Time for nigh-night
[Repeat times a million]
Me: Miles, what's wrong?
Miles: [jibberish, repeated incessantly until we finally decipher it]
Me: Friday night?
Miles: Yesh. Iss Fri-ay nigh.
Me: Yes, it is Friday night. You're right.
Miles: I tay up.
Me: No, it's time for night-night. No staying up.
Miles: [exasperated] Iss Fri-ay nigh. I 'tay up!
Me: [collapse in silent giggles]
Patrick: Alright, Miles, Mommy has to go downstairs. Tell her good-night.