“Are you ready for a story?” I enquire, walking into the kids’ bedroom to see figures balancing precariously on their beds still in their day clothes, flying a small toy figure around in the pull cord of the electric ceiling fan.
“Yes!” they chorus.
I point out the lack of pyjamas.
"You can read to us while we get into pjs," they say, continuing to play.
I decline to start down that slippery slope of insubordination and shake my head in a stern motherly manner.
“I command you,” declaims Youngest, dramatically throwing out an arm in a grand gesture.
“I’m the queen around here,” I reply and exit strategically before we get into an argument that will go nowhere.
From my computer next door I hear fierce whispers, as they exhort each other to get undressed.
“SHE won’t read to us unless we do,” Youngest hisses across the room at her older siblings.
In a matter of minutes I am recalled.
“We’re ready!” and I return to see Youngest just pulling her pyjama top over her head and slipping into bed.
Long may the pull of a good story work as a failsafe bedtime carrot.
But what was the story? And how did it start?
ReplyDeleteJust read us the first few lines. Just for five more minutes.
Pleeeeeeeeeeez?
LOL! YOu are definitely the Queen.
ReplyDeleteNot only the queen...but a great mama!
ReplyDeletei love that... i find it hard to stop reading when they demand yet another story ;-)
ReplyDeleteMe too, Johanna. I get engrossed in the story too and then find I've read way past 8 o'clock, which is supposed to be the time to switch off lights and settle down.
ReplyDeleteI can't remember which book I was reading then, Marcheline, I widh I'd written it down back then! But at the moment we're reading The Crown of Violet by Geoffrey Trease and they are just as gripped by it.