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.
