Blessed bedtime was upon us. Well, not us so much as the kids, which is the blessed bit.
Usually, once the kids are settled under their blankets, I have to hold myself back from racing for the light switch. Given half a chance I can disappear out of the kids’ room so quick they might be forgiven for thinking they were watching some sort of illusion show in Vegas.
I did the rounds one final time, giving out a kiss and a cuddle and a final word of warmth or, depending on the child, warning.
But when I got to Master10 I was feeling playful.
“I’m your favourite, aren’t I?” I asked him.
Tracey wasn’t around so I stood a chance of winning this time. Besides, I love making them choose and squirm.
“You’re both my equal favourite,” he said diplomatically. He’s been caught before.
“I know who my favourite is,” said Miss5 from another bed.
I turned around.
“It’s me, isn’t it?” I asked her.
She frowned. A lot. Then she vigorously shook her head.
Shesh, don’t take my feelings into account or anything.
“But I gave you life,” I told her majestically, my arms spread Messiah-like.
“No, you didn’t,” said Master10, joining in the mix. “Mummy did.”
“I can assure you I was involved.”
“How?” asked Miss5.
I quickly cast aside the temptation to start singing Hot Chocolate’s It Started With A Kiss.
“I don’t think you want to know yet,” I assured her. I figured it was time to abandon this conversation and headed for the door. “Bedtime!” I said, turning out the light.
“I already know,” Master10 called out from the darkness. “And,” he added, his voice full of contempt, “it’s a little disgusting, Dad.”
Next time I’m just going to yell, ‘Vegas, baby!’ and run.
Hahaha you totally asked for that! Always get out before the where do babies come from talk! It’s a trap!
Can’t wait til Master10 changes his mind!