friday facts: details on how I alone can screw up my kids

Yes indeedy.  I spend the bulk of my time with my children.  For better or worse, this is a fact.  If I'm awake, I'm with at least one if not both of them.  Or it's after 8 pm and I'm falling asleep on the couch.  Buuuut, anywayyy... I'm bound to screw them up if I'm spending so much time with them!  My only hope is that it is as minimal as possible. 

My latest screw up involved talking Fletcher into going to sleep.  He is a typical boy who enjoys staying up to play as long as possible.  Never mind that he is so tired he can barely see straight.  He's going to stay up as long as possible and can find devious ways to procrastinate bedtime.  There is a phenomenon in our house where as soon as it is bedtime, Fletcher will begin playing quietly and sweetly.  It's like he KNOWS.  He must know.  Cause he's good.  But a few nights ago, he did not want to go to bed and was quite insistent on staying up. 

Cue my brilliant idea.  I thought telling him that fairies sprinkled sleepy dust on his bed would be a lovely little bedtime story that would ignite a magical imagination.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Mama:  But Fletcher! We have to go look and see the fairies that sprinkle sleepy dust on your bed!

Fletcher: Wha????  Bairies in my bed?
Mama: No, they just sprinkle the sleepy dust on your bed so you fall asleep!  Let's go look!!
Fletcher:  Okaaayyy....

Later, in the middle of the night, and every night since I told him this little fairy story, we hear him screaming:
"Noooo!  Get off me bairies, get off me!  Go away bairies, go away!!! Ouch, the bairies are getting me, Mama!  Mama!!!!!!"

Did I mention this is in the middle of the night?  Every night?  Yes, I know, I'm an awesome mom.  We're still working on convincing him that fairies do not actually exist.  Despite the fact that Mama said they did.  And what Mama says has to be true. 

Completely unrelated to this story is the fact that I made pizza last night.  Do you ever make homemade pizza and then become completely remorseful that you did not put on more cheese after it is made?

This happens to me EVERY time.  But Rowan still loved it.

She's a good eater, that one.

How do you screw up your children?  And do you now have more sympathy for your mothers?