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Bedtime: An Emotional Odyssey

He still lets me tuck him in at bedtime. Nine years old, in a big hurry to grow up — but he hasn’t yet booted me from plopping beside him, pulling the covers up to his chin, and humming some hit ’80s song while I drag my fingers through his silky, shaggy mop.

Oh, it’s coming. “I don’t think my friends’ parents tuck them in at night,” he offers casually. “I might be getting too old for this.”

You listen to me, I would say if my teeth weren’t clenched for the express purpose of preventing my saying it. I will be tucking you in when you stumble home from the senior prom shnockered on bad, illegally obtained liquor, and you will like it. … The tucking-in, I mean. Not the liquor. You will very much dislike the liquor. Continue reading Bedtime: An Emotional Odyssey

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My columns are collected in three lovely books, which make a SPLENDID gift for wives, friends, book clubs, hostesses, and anyone who likes to laugh!
Keep Your Skirt On
Wife on the Edge
Broad Assumptions
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