I'm not a big bedtime story reader. It's always been something other people do to put my son to sleep. I mean, I've always had boobs, so a book was inferior to my "num-nums."
As The First Mate got older, he will use any and every stall tactic there is.
"I need my (insert toy) for nigh-night!"
"I need my wa-wa."
"I need to see the doggies."
"Ow! My hair hurt."
"I need my blanket."
and the very clever
"I need to tell you I love you."
Man, this kid is good.
But last night, even though we were starting the nighttime routine later than usual, I felt the need to drag it out a bit.
I held him close and patted his back. I kissed him on the cheek and whispered about the crazy amounts of love I have for him. I told him he should have sweet dreams full of happy thoughts so he would be ready for a fun day tomorrow.
That's when he began to tell me a bedtime story.
Not your typical Night, Night, Elmo! that we can both recite verbatim. My toddler's story went something like this:
TFM: "I want to go to the park tomorrow. I want a bath. I want... go park and have bath."
Me: "Okay, you can do both those things tomorrow."
He leans in and puts his nose against mine.
TFM: "Today is Wednesday."
Me: "Today is Friday. If you go night night it will be a new day when you wake up. I think you get to see Grams tomorrow too. You and Daddy and Grams might go see the fishies."
TFM: "And Zoey (Grams' French Bulldog) and Papa and Crocodiles."
Me: "Crocodiles too? That sounds fun."
TFM: "Uh huh. Crocodiles go in wa-wa. I take bath and play with my plane in wa-wa."
Me: "Will there be crocodiles in your bath?"
TFM: "No Mama! Crocodiles no take bath."
Me: "Oh, okay. Baby takes a bath."
TFM: "Uh huh. I need my blanket..."