Charlie would like

Charlie would like his bedtime to be "ten-thirty-more-minutes" and I have to hand it to him--it's quite clever. It smacks of the "jam tomorrow, jam yesterday, but never ever jam today" plan from Alice In Womderland.

He has also found wisdom in having his turn last. Last bedtime story and last bath have their advantages, as does last at the dentist. If only he'd discovered this earlier--had he been content to be last to use the toilet, Melody's glasses might not have gone down it.

Speaking of which, many of you have asked about their fate. Despite being without scratch or bend, the rubber parts on the ear pieces and nose pieces had absorbed the smell. After over it soaks in vinegar and a day in the sun, it was still lingering. Had the perpetrator and owner been one and the same, I'd be content to let a child live with sewer-scented frames, but Melody did not deserve to have to go through the next few months with those on her face.

I took them back to Walmart with the intention of purchasing new frames, but they were kind enough to swap them out for free. Yes, they were under warranty against breakages, but I'm not entirely convinced their fine print encompassed our situation. Their kindness was much appreciated.