Andrew: Momma, I want this (light-up truck that makes lots of obnoxious sounds) in my bedroom tonight.
Me: Well, I want Benedict Cumberbatch in my bedroom, but that’s not happening either.
Fast forward about an hour:
So the baby’s asleep for the night, and Bill’s getting Andrew into his PJs. This is usually when I gather my things and head to my laptop for some goofing off online while I pretend to work.
For some reason, the door to the office space with my laptop was closed, but I figured Andrew had just closed it and hadn’t really stressed about it. So I opened the door, turned on the light, and proceeded to have a heart attack.
( Here's why.... )