Lullaby and Good F#$*ing Night
It's 10:33 pm, on a school night, and she's not in bed.
And she hasn't brushed her teeth.
And she thinks that this is a negotiable point because I want her to go to bed.
Go to bed.
Go to bed.
Go the fuck to bed.
It's not a conversation. It's not a debate. It's not even an argument.
Go to bed.
I can be warm and fuzzy sometimes. But rarely after 10 pm. And especially never when I thought you were already in bed -- 45 minutes ago.
Go to bed.
I don't even care if you go to sleep at this point.
Just go the fuck to bed. And stay there. Until morning.
It's not that I don't love you. Or want to hear all about your day. But that ship sailed and now you need to hold it in until breakfast.
Oh God, breakfast.
You'll be grouchy and grumpy and desperately in need of caffeine. Or is that me? If only it wouldn't stunt your growth, we could share.
I wonder why.
Maybe you're...I don't know...I'm just spit balling here...TIRED?
I'm tired.
Tired of being mean. Of feeling mean. For asking you to do something that isn't a favor.
It's not a favor.
I'm the mommy. (Yes, the meanest mommy there ever was. Still. The only one you have.)
But I will ask. Because what the Hell at this point.
Will you PLEASE go to bed?