It’s a balmy 68 degrees. I get home from working out and check my email. The girls and on their way home from visiting friends with yosefblog. I check the fridge and make a mental note of what I’ll cook for dinner, then crack the window to let the cool breeze waft through the house. I take a nice, long, hot shower, get out and put on my pajamas…at 6:45 PM. Ahhh…Yosefblog enters with the children at 7:04. “I’m making tuna steaks” I sing from the kitchen. At 7:45 dinner is done, and yosefblog and I curl up on the couch to watch the Celtics game while the girls play computer. Ahhh…8:15: “Time for bed, girls,” I smile.
Two hours later, they are still awake, I have gotten them Ritz, cups of water, yelled at them to get into bed, turned on their ipod, and had to “tuck them in with hugs and kisses” four times. That doesn’t sound like that much in two hours, but when it occurs at regular 8 minute intervals, it completely destroys what was supposed to be what you thought was going to be your first night of spring freedom. At one point, I tried to appeal to Bassie’s rational side:
Me: Bassie, it is not my job to spend two hours transitioning you to sleep.
Bassie: Yes it is.
Me: No, it’s not. Check the description.
Bassie: Okay, let me see it.
Me: (calling as I leave the room) It’s online!
I would say “Calgon, take me away!” but I assume that studies have found that Calgon, like Mr. Bubble, is carcinogenic.
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