Poor guy was so tired today. I picked him up from school and foolishly tried to stop at the store on the way home. Ian was clingy and didn't want to get in the cart. He wanted me to hold him, which is hard to do while you push a grocery cart around, but I managed it. I had to placate him with a pack of Elmo party plates (I figured that's better than candy) to get him to sit long enough for me to check out. He barely made it through dinner and I actually had to cut my meal short to take him upstairs and put him to bed.
Rich came up and after one book and some mama milk, he went down with Dada. Not without a lot of tears, though, as he kept shaking his head saying "Go!" Rich came downstairs a few minutes later with a giant wet spot on his shirt from all the crying.
Rich said Ian was saying "Go ..." in his sleep.