When I was a wee tot, my parents had a bedtime ritual for me (probably based on my life-long inablility to just go the heck to sleep, already).
It was: a glass of milk, two Little Golden Books (read, not eaten), and the humming of Brahm’s Lullaby when I was actually in bed. Sometimes at double-time, depending on how the parent in question was feeling at the time. 
But…I don’t drink milk. And I can’t stand anything higher-fat than 2%. Usually skim. I love cheese though.