Before kids’ bedtime last night, just for the hell of it, I offered Bebe to sleep on the pull-out bed from under Koala’s bottom bunk. Usually she sleeps in her crib, adjacent to the massive bunk bed, which has served mainly as a hulking piece of furniture potential.
She took us up on the offer.
As young parents trying something new and exciting often do, huz and I scrambled to get the bed made and sorted with her favorite items. The kids squealed with delight, and settled down into their places, facing each other.
Soon we found ourselves huddled outside the room, listening to their pillow talk.
“Shalosh… Arba… Osim shalosh…”
“Pesach already happened…”
“Shabbat shalom u’mevurach…”
“If we have shabbat, then we say to everybody shabbat shalom, and then we get a mamtak to eat…”
“If we go aroooound…”
“Ok, Bebe, it’s mesukan to talk when we going to bed.”
“But… but… but…”
There’s something to listening to your son using a firstborn voice to tell his younger sister:
“Ok, no more talking. I need to sleep.”
Finally, as he always does, Koala called out towards the hall – “Ima, I love you.”
This time, Bebe followed: “Ima, I love you.”
“I love you too, guys.”
And then, for the first bedtime ever, Koala added –
“I love you Bebe.”
“I love you Koala.”
Whadya got: