Bedtime

I glance down at my watch again. I really should go. As lovely as this backyard happy hour with my fellow literacy coaches has been, it’s bedtime. Bedtime is always a fiasco. My family needs me.

I stay a few more minutes and reluctantly announce I have to leave. Everyone is going to go too. I help clean up, stalling a bit longer.

As I drive home, I look at the clock. It’s 8:20. Maybe Rose has fallen asleep on the couch. I’m positive Adi will be an overtired mess.

I pull into the driveway and pause a moment before opening the garage door. As I enter the house, I hold my breath, waiting for the chaos.

The quiet hits me like a brick wall. Arnauld is sitting on the couch watching tv. I wait for the kids to pop out from a hiding place. There is no way they’re sleeping.

“Where are the girls?” I ask.

“Sleeping,” Arnauld replies.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. How did you do it?” I ask, my voice full of envy.

Maybe I should disappear at bedtime more often.

5 thoughts on “Bedtime

  1. Oh, the wonders of arriving to a quiet house. And I notice here the contrast between the shared joy of being with your colleagues & the quiet joy of coming home to your partner. Glad they slept!

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  2. What a beautiful ending to a wonderful day. I saw you peeking at your watch and wondered if you were thinking about the girls and getting them ready for bed. I’m so glad you stayed longer, and so glad that you arrived home to a quiet home. Go Arnauld! I understand the feeling of both relief and envy. Just go with a relaxing night for now. Tomorrow is another day!

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