When I was little, I remember bedtime as sometimes being an exercise in stalling the inevitable. My sisters and I loved to sing songs and say prayers with my mom, but I think the fact that she had to limit us to three songs each (many times they were long winded, made up songs that occasionally included jumping on the bed) is definitely telling.
So last night when I was putting Jack to bed, I had to laugh when he said, "Mommy, before you leave, I need to tell you 91 secrets." I'm not sure which was more subtle: our made up songs or his 91 secrets, (By the way, he only told one of his "secrets" because he could not stop giggling long enough to get the words out. It was pretty funny!)
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