I don't know how it is in other households, but the bedtime ritual in our abode is akin to driving red-hot railroad spikes up my nostrils with a sledge-hammer. Through my ass. Every goddamn night it's the same, fucking thing:
ME: Did you guys brush your teeth yet? No?! What've you been doing?! Look, put the book down, get some toothpaste on that thing and brush. What? You have to poop now?! Why didn't you do that before?! Fine, go poop but no reading on the toilet. Because I said so... and because it'll give you piles! What? You don't wanna know! Look it up. Miss O, get your jammies on! No, it's inappropriate to show that to your brother! Because that's private. No, he doesn't have one. Yes, I'm sure. Huh? Because I've seen it, now get dressed. Mr. Z, are you still pooping in there?! Well pinch it off and let's go! And turn on the fan! What did you have for lunch?! Rotten Elk?! Miss O, I'm going to count to three, and if you're still naked there's gonna be no story tonight. One! Two... Yeah, I thought so. Mr. Z, did you wash your hands? Then why are you putting them on your sister's face?! Get in there and wash -- that's disgusting! You think she wants your poop on her face?! Yeah, ha-ha, that's funny. Dad said poop. No-- YOU GUYS, CALM DOWN! IT'S BEDTIME -- YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE CHILLING OUT NOW! Mr. Z, where are your boxers? Go get them and put them on, please. Dude, she doesn't need to see that. No, stop that! Yes, I know it's stretchy. Now quit doing that or you're going to pull it off. No... you guys--hey, you better not--THAT'S IT! NOPE, FORGET IT! NO BOOKS OR STORIES TONIGHT! NO, I'M SORRY, I TRIED TO BE PATIENT BUT YOU GUYS KEPT ON FREAKING OUT! I know you're sad, but you should've listened when I told you to get ready for bed. Aw, c'mon... here's a kleenex... just wipe your tears... I know... shhh, stop crying... Okay, tell you what. If you get in bed right this minute, I'll tell you a very short story. All right, and I'll sing a song. Okay, but that's it. There you go, no more tears now... Okay. Once there was a little girl named Miss O who had a pet badger named Doug, who-- YES, I'LL BE IN THERE IN A SECOND TO SAY GOODNIGHT! JUST CHILL OUT! Okay... um, a pet badger named Reggie... Wha? Oh, sorry... Doug...
Every... fucking... night.
My day will come, though. When I'm, like, 95 and incontinent and they have to change my poopie diaper, brush my tooth and then put me to bed. Then they'll see! Boy, I can't wait!