Recently the boys have taken advantage of the Jack & Jill bathroom they share, now that they are potty trained, to visit one another at various times throughout the night. They make very little noise, generally just playing dinosaurs or whispering in the darkness to Buzz Lightyear. You know, typical 3-year-old boy stuff. Generally I don't mind these late night shenanigans, at least til Leno is over. Plus it means that they sleep until 9:00am. I consider it a win-win.
So tonight was like any other night. I went in to tuck them in, again, and was blessed with a wonderful time. I decided to lay down in Daniel's red race car bed with the both of them and tell them a bedtime story, letting them fill in the blanks. It quickly became reminiscent of Mad Libs.
Me: Once Upon A Time there was a horse named _____
Alphabet!
And Alphabet had a brother named_____
Baby! And Alphabet found a tree frog and his Daddy did this (stomps on the bed) and tree frog died!! And then Baby hold his elephant and goes WOOO WOOO like this, and has spaghetti for breakfast.
Ummm...that has to be the best bedtime story I have ever heard. I laughed until I snorted, which only served to send them into a tailspin of laughter until our bellies hurt. It was amazing. And it was 11:30pm on a Wednesday night.
I'll remember it forever.
What is the moral of this story? Maybe we shouldn't always be annoyed, angry, frustrated, etc. - with what we think our kids should be doing, instead enter the situation with a tiny fragment of wonder - the kind of wonder with which they live their lives.
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