On Wednesday, I came home and the girls were working on their homework. I encouraged them to do a good job, and I told them I had a surprise for them at bedtime. They couldn’t contain their huge smiles, and they began to guess what it might be. “Pajamas???” “A night-night story???” “A new Christmas CD???”
They went back to their homework, and then we enjoyed a nice supper…but they were a little more anxious than usual to head upstairs for the evening. They really wanted to look around, to see if I’d hidden something. [I hadn’t.]
Once everyone had donned their PJs, brushed their teeth, and straightened their beds, I ran downstairs to get the girls’ treat. Sure enough, it was a new bedtime story, a Thanksgiving-themed one, A Turkey for Thanksgiving.
The girls piled up on either side of me, their attention even more rapt than usual.
(I couldn’t help but be thankful that the girls’ routine still includes me reading them a story every single night. They’ve been capable of reading to themselves for two years now. I know this won’t last forever, but I sure savor it.)
I began to read in my best animated voice. Mrs. Moose asked Mr. Moose to find a turkey for their Thanksgiving meal. He set out and was joined, page by page, by other animals as they hunted.
The girls were on the edge of their seats…peering intently over my shoulders…I could almost feel them wincing as the animals cornered the terrified turkey.
Of course I knew the ending to the story…that the turkey was the honored guest at the Thanksgiving table, all the animals talking about the joy of sharing the holiday with friends.
And when the ending finally revealed itself, I relished the girls’ utter delight.
Surprising my baby girls…enjoying a new night-night story…appreciating them, appreciating the story…it was such a wonderful night.