I feel like a rock star

A's newest bedtime routine consists of a book (or two or seven) a lullaby, and then kisses on both her hands. Once I kiss her hands she stares at them and gets the "I'm not going to wash my hand/cheek/body ever again" look that pre-teen girls tend to get when confronted with their adored boy-band hero. I can't hold a tune to save my life, but I guess I've got myself a fan club of one. Now if kisses on the hands could only get her to fall asleep...