None of it is my fault. NONE OF IT, PEOPLE.

My mother took issue with the details of the previous post. Interestingly, the point of contention was not the possibility that she might in fact arrive home from a future vacation bearing hard illegal drugs, but my description of her cooler as insufficiently cold.
I can tell you that I have a very strong leg to stand on in the argument that my mother is responsible for the introduction of most, if not all, of my toddler's corrupting influences. Who introduced her to chewing gum at eighteen months? Who gives her Dutch licorice laden with enough sodium to induce stroke level blood pressure? Who taught her to make a puking noise to reference her spit up prone infant cousin? Who got ratted out by an overly honest toddler that "Oma lets me skip brushing my teeth before naps"? Yes, I think I can rest my case.
Really though, much of the blame has to be laid at my husband's feet as well. His bad habit is to take a routine that we are both forced to perform with Frankie and give it just enough personal twists that it is impossible for me to replicate correctly. And let me tell you that the results are much wailing and gnashing of teeth (on my part) and loud laments of ("THAT'S NNNNNNOT WHAT DAAAADDDY DOES!") on Frankie's part. For example, Frankie's bedtime routine is a strict two book, prayer, sing a song, wham, bam, out the door affair. Or so it should be. Instead it has been corrupted beyond repair. First there is the request that I tuck her in like a burrito. Then Frankie and I go to read her favorite story about the amateur detective Aunt Eater and I am immediately out of favor because I don't do "1,2,3" like Daddy does.

Me: "Well, what does Daddy, God love him, do with this fantastic '1,2,3' idea?"

Frankie: "He just does like this and this and then it is one, two, three."[note that no gestures accompany the aforementioned sentence]

Me: "Well, huh, that is a puzzle that might inspire a lesser person to a degree of irritation. Does he do 1,2,3 like this with the pages?"

Frankie: "No, that's not it! Do it like Daddy does!"

Me: "Well now Franks, I am trying to do it like Daddy, God bless him, does it, but I am not sure what to do."

Frankie: "Just DO IT. DO IT! DO IT LIKE DADDY DOES!!! DO IT LIKE DAAAAADDDDDY DOOOEEESS! I LOVE DADDY THE BEEESSSSSTTTTT!"

And then I hold my breath until I am unconscious to stop the insanity.