After another astonishingly lengthy bedtime struggle (because it is summer and there’s freedom, and one is now a full-grown teen). But, there’s still bedtime. I’m your father: Go to bed.
Isabella (She’s 10. Teeth brushed. Dentist on Thursday. So, we’ll see if her story holds true): Daddy, come snuggle with me.
I straighten her sheets and adjust the mattress. She climbs in.
Julianna (the 13-year-old, in a bed in the same room): Why do you always fix her mattress? Why don’t I have as many covers? Why do the dogs always want to sleep with her?
Me: I’d fix your disaster of a bed, if you’d let me.
Iz: Because, they don’t like you. You’re too rough.
J: Yeah, but that’s because they sleep in your bed. With all the covers!
Blah, blah. The fight continues.
At this point…
Me: Ok, girls. Cut it out! Stop! Goodnight. I will probably love you more tomorrow.
Semi-closing the door.
J: Yeah… What do you mean?
Me: Because, right now, I’ve reached a plateau. With the yelling and the fighting. We’ll see about tomorrow… Let’s see what tomorrow brings.
5 minutes later, I hear slight snores from both beds. So, yeah, an uptick in the love.
That’s what tomorrow brings.