Greg and I were doing our usual bedtime routine with the girls.

One of us in one room reading/talking about our day with one of them, then swapping and talking to the others while passing a warm snifter of Nyquil to each other in the hall.

Chloe was enraged that I wouldn’t read all 96 pages of her Barbie book because the “Reading Factory” (School read-a-thon) wouldn’t allow her to write down the book if she didn’t read it in its entirety.

For anyone who has children’s books, you’ll know that the books with page numbers are a step above the average board book. Once they have to number them, there’s no more skipping pages or just pointing at pictures. This is the real deal. We also argued for several minutes over why she can’t have a whole bunch of bookmarks “like Hanna!” so she can remember what Barbie looks like from page to page.

Spoiler alert–Barbie has looked the same for over 50 years. She just earned a bunch of bogus, honourary degrees and changed careers a lot but physically, she is identical.

I also knew this was a dangerous path to go down so close to wanting her to fall asleep. “And do you know what else Hanna has that I don’t? Not just bookmarks!”

She claimed if she read any part of the book without me, it wouldn’t count and then confessed, “I can’t even read the words so I need your help. Else-wise, why don’t you just give me books with no words?? Huh? How about that?”

Ellie was day dreaming out the window. I sometimes marvel at how she decompresses after a busy day by star gazing. She would periodically turn to us and say things like, “Hey Mom, you know how canon balls are people who eat people?”

Yes dear.