Bedtime

It's 9:30. Chris and I are in bed reading books that are making us laugh. I will read something, giggle, and read it to Chris. He will not laugh. Then he will read to me, and I will not laugh. We begin to question the other's sense of humor.

In walks a very grumpy Parker with Deacon in tow, mumbling something, but all I caught was, "...my brother..." He grumps out of the room. Deacon happily climbs into our bed, blue bunny blankie in hand.

Chris rolls over, very grumpy, mumbling something, but all I caught was, "...my son..." He turns off the light.

Chris believes Deacon has a personal mission to insure his spot as the youngest child in the family. According to Chris, Deacon accomplishes this mission by climbing in between me and Chris and spending the night kicking Chris in sensitive regions. Chris is not thrilled to see Deacon crawling into our bed.

I have a gift to ignore my external surroundings and focus on the book I'm reading, and I begin exercising that gift. A few minutes into my reading I become aware of the fact that Deacon is eating trail mix in my bed. I am, however, unaware of how he acquired the trail mix. I keep reading, and Deacon chatters on to me. I ignore everything he's saying, but a phrase does stick out. "I love you, mom, but monsters are not real."

Finally Deacon starts begging me to turn off the light. "O.k.," I say, "Let me go to the bathroom, and then I'll turn it off."

"I'll help you."

"No, this is a task I've mastered. I don't need any help."

Deacon jumps out of bed and follows me anyway. A trail of peanuts and raisins follow him. I begin to understand the origins of the word "trail mix."

I'm washing my hands when a few drops of water splash on the blue bunny blanket. Deacon becomes indignant. "You got my blue bunny blankie wet! I don't appreciate that!"

A glass of water later, and we are finally tucked into bed. At this point Chris has begun to snore.

"What's that sound, mom?" Deacon asks.

"That's daddy snoring."

"I can't sleep in here," he says, covering his ears. Three seconds later he jumps out of bed and heads out the door.

"Good-night, mom," he says, closing the door after him.

"Good-night, kiddo."