I suppose I asked for it

Oh, Eleri.
We all know she's independent, yes?  Might I remind you that she set her mind on changing her own diapers--and then refused to let anyone help her?

So, we've been struggling a bit with bedtime.  The girl is a nightowl, and trying to force her to go to bed when she's not feeling it is just not that successful.  And yet this is the situation I continue to perpetuate.  The last several nights, I've finally given up putting her back down the nth time, and when I head to bed I find her asleep on the floor at the top of the stairs.   (Tonight is no different.  It's 9:30 and I can hear her up there now.)

A little earlier, both girls came out of their room, and I indiscriminately sent them back to bed, despite Eleri's claim of a hurt finger.  (Wolf.)  No peep for a while, but then I hear a little rumbling, and notice the light is on, so I go stealthily upstairs to catch Eleri in the act o whatever it is she's doing.  The laundry room light is on, but so is her bathroom light (which is the next door).  I slip in to the bathroom and then through the door into the bedroom and Eleri is getting into bed.  When she sees me she says "there's a mess in the laundry room."

"Why don't you come help me clean it up," I say.

"Otay."  (That's right, she still says Otay instead of okay.  It's extremely cute.)

In the laundryroom, I find a bag of first aid supplies emptied out onto the floor.  A box of gauze pads is open and, upon closer inspection, it seems that each sterile package has been ripped upon, gauze pads strewn on the floor.  I ask Eleri what's up.

"I had an owie on my knee," she says, "so I put cream on it."

Wait.  Cream?  What cream?

Sure enough, her ENTIRE LEG is like an oil slick, both hands covered, and she is leaving gooey puddles on the floor.

"Eleri, which cream did you use?"  She points to the prescription antibiotic cream.  So I guess we don't have to worry about an infection in her scraped knee.

I got her cleaned up (She held up her thumb--the one she had been sucking--and said "this is yucky," so obviously we had to do a thorough hand wash) and put her back in bed.

Of course, as mentioned, I can hear her breathing at the top of the stairs.

So.  That's my night.  How was yours?