NOW HEAR THIS:
If you are not a married adult in this abode you need to immediately and without further ado depart from your current location and haul your young ass to the upper regions of this facility. Once there you must engage in the teeth brushing and bladder emptying portions of the evening, followed by some light reading and pillow fluffing, and end with the eye shutting and snore production. Why? Because I am a married adult in this abode and I require some quiet time with the other married adult living here, preferably with adult drinks and adult conversation and adult activities. But not that adult activity, because the house is small and the walls are thin and let’s face it you’re not sleeping anyway and I refuse to pay for anymore goddamn therapy for anyone other than me for the foreseeable future.
My god I hate bedtime. Not my own bedtime, that I love like spring afternoons and wool socks and wines that send shivers down my spine. That other bedtime. The one that involves young creatures with minds of their own. That bedtime wants me want to stab sunshine and burn rainbows and kick bunnies into the bushes to be eaten by bunny-eating monsters. Life lied to me when it said that someday the young creatures with minds of their own would sleep. No, life lied by omission. The young creatures with minds of their own sleep alright, just not at night when mommy would really like some quiet time so she can unwind and sleep and not toss and turn for 97 minutes prior.
But tonight! OH tonight! Tonight those young creatures are upstairs, passed out or on the verge, at the AARP-approved hour of 8 pm. Those young creatures nearly blew zzzzs into their dinners this evening. The older young creature went camping last night with the Boy Scouts, in sub-freezing temperatures, barely ate anything for 24 hours, and spent the day running around a campsite playing a variety of ultimate games. The younger young creature joined the older mid-day today for those games. Running up and down hills, playing capture the flag and tug-of-war, little bodies running high trying to stay warm in 20 degree weather…it wears a body out.
So this evening there will be no “hey mom, something-something-something-tech-something” and no “I’m hungry” and no “I can’t sleeeeeep,” because those two young creatures? Are asleep.
Love This! <3
Whoa! My kids live at your house! It sounds like we have the same bedtime routine followed by the same post routine B.S. One hour of my own and an uninterrupted glass of wine. Why is that too much to ask?