The 600th-and-something Post.

I’ve recently developed a bedtime story loosely inspired by Toonces the Driving Cat and an old Roxette song.

Oh, you read that right. My parents let me watch Saturday Night Live as a 5 year old. It is why I’m hot.

Anyway, this particular tale kills everytime. It’s got my kids clamoring to go to bed at night. It leaves them in stitches, and begging for more. I’m a total storytime rockstar, and I’m proud of it.

I just had to share.

Sometimes I wish Toonces would get behind the wheel of my car. (Toonces, look out!) Mia just wishes she had a cat. She’s been going over to our friend Angie’s house this week for some for some quality kitty-time and she’s been loving every second of it. Of course, she likes Angie, too, and thank goodness, because Angie is an exceptional babysitter. The woman gave my kid some chocolate cake the other day, and between that and the cat, I didn’t think Mia would ever want to come back to my house.

Now all Mia can talk about is having her very own kitten. Never mind the fact that we have 3 big dogs that thirst for feline blood. Girl wants herself a cat–and because her birthday is coming up, she thinks its not unreasonable to ask for one.

But she would be wrong.

I feel bad. We’ve already turned down her request for a horse. Caleb and I are stone-cold dead-set against a cat of any kind at any time. And her goldfish keep dying.

So we told her she could get her ears pierced.

Deep breath. My sweet little daughter is growing up. 7 years old–that’s like, not little anymore. It’s not “Daddy, can I ride on your shoulders?” or “Mommy, will you play with me?” 7 years old means “Hey, Dad. Can I ride the bus to school this year?” or “Mom, me and my friends want some privacy. Can you leave, and shut the door behind you?”

Ouch.

Unfortunately, 7 is not too old for this: “Mom? I had a bad dream. Can I sleep in your bed?” It’s really the only time I can get her to cuddle with me, so I guess that’s a plus.

I guess I’d better enjoy it while I can. It won’t be long before my bedtime stories are lame. She’ll want to watch Saturday Night Live. Pretty soon she’ll be driving, and nobody say anything about you-know-who already being able to start learning, because I swear I’ll lose it right here, right now.

Advertisements

About Toni

Mom. Wife. Artist. I take care of the kids and pretend to clean sometimes. I can cook spagetti and I have never been arrested. View all posts by Toni

You must be logged in to post a comment.

%d bloggers like this: