Please let me go to bed by day

It's barely 7:00, and I'm so exhausted from my trip to Minnesota that I can hardly keep my eyes open. I want nothing more than to go to bed, but I'm reminded that it's ridiculously early for an adult who's not sick or depressed to go to sleep.

It's reminding me of a poem that my mom taught me when I was little:

"Bed in Summer"

by Robert Louis Stevenson

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

I remember hating this poem on those summer nights when I was tucked in at 7:30 to the sounds of birds and people outside (not to mention my mom reciting the poem, just as a friendly reminder that, yes, it's still light outside). Now, I wish someone would make me go to sleep. "I know the sun is still up and the kitchen is a mess, but it's bedtime."