It was one of THOSE nights

It was already 20 minutes past bedtime. All the baths were finished. The boys were dry. And pajama-ed. The teeth were brushed. The dirty clothes rested in the hamper. The nightlights lit. The proper blanket, teddy, pillow aligned. And realigned. Fresh water was arranged bedside. Prayers were completed. Questions were answered. More questions were answered. Questions were beginning to be ignored. Did I mention it was already 20 minutes past bedtime? Screams from one room ended with a reprimand and a threat. Screams from another room ended with a reprimand and a threat. More questions were ignored. The hall light had been turned off as I tried to exit the scene. Then back on due to another bedtime emergency. Then off as I tried to exit the scene. And then back on… One more question that can’t wait until morning. One more blanket arrangement that has to be JUST SO or sleep won’t happen. One more glass of water that is colder and far superior and an absolute necessity. BOYS! GO! TO! SLEEP! The hall light is extinguished.   I get half way down the stairs. Mommy? Ignore it.   A few more steps. Mommy? Ignore it.   To the bottom of the stairs. MOMMY! WHAT? Swift and angry change of direction. Stomp.   Stomp.   Stomp. FLICK.   The hall light goes back on. Stomp.   Stomp.   Stomp. WHAT DO YOU NEED NOW? The light from the hall filtered in as a soft spotlight on a 4 year old dressed in two-piece, blue button-down, traditional flannel, Super Mario PJs standing on his bed with big questioning eyes and arms outstretched. I need a hug.