He's playing us

Children are crafty, fickle little beings.  They are cute only so their parents feel the need to keep them around.  Well, their cuteness and our inborn, genetic desire to not want to harm something we worked so hard to protect for 9 months.
James can play Adam and I like a fiddle.  He's not even two, yet he knows how to get what he wants.  Not that he does...  at least not all the time.
On Saturday, Adam and I went to an Oriole's game.  We had free tickets, so even though it was raining, we left James with my mom and headed down to Camden Yards.  I was a little worried that James wouldn't go to bed for Grandma, he likes to put up a fight and lay in his bed making noise for awhile before actually falling asleep these days.  Usually, Adam or I give in and go up to check on James during these noisy times.  Adam tells him its time to sleep, not time to play and I usually repeat something like that and sing him a song or two.  Eventually, he falls asleep.  But not for Grandma, nooooo.  James got a story, had some snuggles, and then went to SLEEP.  No fuss, no noise.  NOTHING.  I mean, sure I'm happy he didn't make my mom's night rough.  We came home and were told of our perfect child and really, who can complain about that?
Cut to Sunday night...  we're on our third trip upstairs and he finally stops making noise and goes to sleep.
Either we need Grandma to come over every night or he's playing us.