So Walter saunters out at 8pm all smiles and in a good mood. I tell him he still needs to write his spelling words and bribe him with 15 minutes of Angry Birds to get him to do it. We do just that, brush our teeth and read a book in bed. Then comes the going to sleep part. He starts touching my face, tickling, playing with random toys. I get up to leave and he calls me a dumb bitch. I stop for a moment to calculate the odds that he is right then give up in despair. He’s in there now by himself fighting the sandman. I’m here fighting myself. Roller Coaster baby, roller coaster.