We were having a guest over shortly after Dominic's bedtime, so I thought I'd get a little jump on the tidying up that inevitably needed to be done after Dominic has been around.
Having this picking up down to a relative science, I put all the colorful board books on their shelf, shove the talking stuffed animals into their shelf, and pick up all miscellaneous legos, blocks, and measuring cups off the floor and back into their wicker basket. I scoop up the throw pillows, fluff them a bit and put them on the loveseat. Then I grab the sandals, pajamas, and magazine that Dominic has dragged out into the hallway and I quickly haul them back to their various places.
By the time I get back to living room--mind you, not more than 90 seconds later--half the throw pillows are on the floor, he's pulled the wicker basket back out, and he's sitting in a pile with all his books and animals. With moderate exasperation, I start back at the throw pillows, vaguely thinking that this is silly and I should just wait until he goes to bed. But, wanting to have it done as soon as possible, I neglect that small, reasonable voice and go about my re-doing.
With manufactured patience, I kindly command Dominic, "Go find your Doggy." In his extremely endearing way, he toddles off with his cute little legs making his diaper crinkle at every penguin step. I sigh to myself and finish picking up the books. It's a good thing he's so cute and at least knows what Doggy means.
Then I hear the unmistakable noise of a whole box of legos being dumped out on his bedroom floor. Not so cute. Bedtime. Now.