Ask not, “who is to blame for the bedtime meltdown?”  Why not?  Well, he is looking right back at you in the mirror, Mr. Let-Them-Stay-Up-To-Play-A-Board-Game.  Mr. That-Was-A-Really-Bad-Idea.

Oh yes, you are to blame.  Blame for the game going awry.  Blame for winning.  Blame for engaging highly competitive in a children in a game that is largely chance, when the odds were not good that it would end well.  Blame for a child getting so tired and punch drunk that he could no longer seem to count in a game heavily dependent upon counting.  Blame for threatening to call the game off for wild behavior so many times, but not pulling the trigger, because the game appeared to be so near completion.  Blame for not recognizing that the game is never really ever near completion.  Blame for letting them continue to play for second and third place.  Oh yes, that last one was unforgivably stupid and I fully shoulder the blame.

I am “Sorry” on so many levels and I am to blame.  Goodnight.