So what if I’m counting down the days until the next episode of “The Vampire Diaries” on the CW? I’ve got my own little vampire right here at home.

My vampire is no Stefan Salvatore; instead, she’s L. Tonight, before bedtime, the little sucker decided it was high time to “turn me” into a vampire forever. So she took a chunk out of my neck. And shoulder. And clavicle.

By the time I got her to bed, I had a splotch of tooth marks all over my side. It looks like I’ve got some sort of weird skin disorder. Or a hickey from hell.

I can’t say didn’t encourage this behavior. Sure, I was trying to get the baby to sleep by shushing her stoically in her dark room. The truth, however, is that every time she sunk her tiny (but sharp!) teeth into my shoulder, I laughed out loud—partially because it tickled but also because it was just so damn cute.

Does this mean she’s going to start biting random people as a sign of affection? I hope not.

I also hope I remember not to take my shirt off at the gym on Tuesday; I get enough funny looks there as it is.