A Moment to Restore Sanity

I am writing now to the sounds of "Bob."  "Bob is Bob."  "Uh-oh.  Bob is on the floor."  Long pause.  "Hi-lo Bob."
All this prompts me to ask, "Who is Bob?"
But perhaps I should start at the beginning.
I try to explain to my son everyday why he must take an afternoon nap.  I tell him how he will feel refreshed when he is done.  I tell him that it will help him to grow tall and strong.  I tell him we will have pizza when he is done, and pizza can only be made once a nap has been completed, because that's how the Italians do it.
And basically, he cares about none of this.  Brody cares about the sounds trains make and the way a city bus is not yellow.  He cares if the cat is in his seat, and if something is mine, why is not mine then too?
Brody owns a lot of things.  He is the venture capitalist of our household.  But the one thing he will not own, is his afternoon nap.
Today, as I was rocking and running out of songs I knew that were appropriate for a two year old, and trust me when I say that Bohemian Rhapsody is not, I finally spoke the truth to Brody.  I told him that he must take an afternoon nap so that his momma has a moment of sanity, and I think he actually got it, because he went calmly to his crib.
And perhaps this is because "Bob" was with him. "Bob" and him seem to be having a real hoot up there, while I'm down here, not resting but wondering who "Bob" could be.
And so, instead of restoring sanity, I contemplate "Bob."  And this is what it means to be a parent.