Bedtime
Bedtime. It's bedtime. Get ready for bed. Please. Please. Please get ready for bed. It's time to go upstairs and get ready for bed. Get on your pajamas. Brush your teeth. Pick out your books. Get ready for bed.
Brush your teeth, boyo. Now. Brush them. That wasn't brushing. That was holding a toothbrush near your face. Brush. Your. Teeth. For two minutes. I'll set the timer. Brush. Your. Teeth. Either YOU brush your teeth or I will brush your teeth. Which do you choose?
And you, girly-girl, you can stop laughing at me and get on your pajamas. And stop jumping on the bed. Stop. Jumping. And take your pajamas off the cat. Really. Calming down. That's the goal. We're callllllming down. Now. Calming. Down.
I'm only reading one book. Just one. And not the one that is 200 pages long. So don't even try to sneak that one under my nose. I will not be tricked into reading the Tolstoy of children's fables. So don't even try.
OK ... I'm reading now.
I'm reading. Now.
Stop playing with whatever that thing is in your hand and listen. To the story. Listen. With your ears. ... not with your hands.
OK ... where was I?
... and they all lived happilyeverafterTheEnd.
(Switches off light).
What?
No, I did not skip any pages. I love you. Go to sleep.
Labels: Special Delivery
1 Comments:
Did you secretly record bedtime at our house?
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