Master of Delays

While putting my daughter to bed tonight, she uncovered a new and almost endless way to put off sleep.  

You see, we are engaged in raising a budding insomniac.  She would happily stay up until, well, forever, if not forcibly put to bed, typically through the liberal use of those age old tools of coercion, picture books and kisses, a technique first applied by the alguacil of the Seville tribunal of the Spanish inquisition (1)(2).

Anyway, my daughter discovered that her dad is a huge nerd (4), and by asking simple questions like "what is the moon" or "why does it get dark" or "why are there stars" she can set ol' Dad off on a 20 minute rambling, mildly accurate-ish explanation of theories of satellite formation, orbital periods, and gravitational attraction and the cosmic scale dance of nuclear fusion.  Thus, by only asking, seemingly innocently, "can I ask three questions" she can defer bedtime by at least an hour.  

Now, I tell myself that maybe I'm somehow kind of educating this small human that lives with us, but let's be honest, I just love talking about science.  Now I just need to figure out how to sneak recordings of Carl Sagan lectures into her bedroom without my wife noticing.  Although the giggles and squeals of delight emanating from Kiki's room well after midnight may give the game away.  Also, Kiki may make some noises too.
(1) Yes, I have decided to insert utterly useless and random historical factoids into the blog to make this appeal to an even smaller and more particular (viz. strange) audience.  Yes, I'm talking to you.  Hello.  Thanks for reading!
(2) And I've also decided to replace my repeated parenthetic phases with footnotes, cleaning up my main point and giving my mind much more freedom to randomly explore (3).
(3) In the margins.  Where, let's be honest, my brain usually belongs.
(4) I know, shocking, right!