The Bedtime Bargain

I anxiously watched the glowing numerals on my smartwatch, waiting breathlessly for those holy numbers to appear. All around me were flying toys, high-pitched screams, and wrestling toddlers. Oh, and the strong smell of sweaty children. If you have spent enough time with kids, you know the smell I am talking about. Finally, the screen flickered and those holy numbers which were declared to our forebears by angels of heaven in years of old, bringing peace to the aged and weary, appeared. 7:30 PM. 

“Bedtime!” I declared (joyously, of course) to my twin four year old boys.

They froze mid-wrestle and stared at me. Jimmy was executing a practiced headlock on his brother. Chase was slightly red in the face and clawing at Jimmy to escape the chokehold. They were like an ancient statue of two Greek wrestlers locked in pugilistic competition, except they were gratefully clothed. Then, as a dam breaking, the stillness gave way to a wall of grievances.

“Daddy, NO! It not bedtime!” shouted Jimmy, releasing his brother.

“No, no, no, no! I no want to. I want to play!” screeched Chase, as he returned to his regular color. 

“Ugh. Boys, it IS bedtime. It’s getting late and we need to get you ready for bed. And I don’t want to hear any whining this time”.

“It not bedtime, it still daytime!” cried Jimmy.

“I’ve already told you a million times. Bedtime doesn’t mean nighttime in the summer”.

“We want to play! Have fun!” wailed Chase.

“But you’re not ‘having fun’, Chase. Your brother was trying to kill you thirty seconds ago!”

“No, I didn’t,” said Jimmy.

“I saw you doing it. Don’t lie to me. Now, let’s get going”.

I got up from the tattered, stained coach. Again, I have twin, rough and tumble, most likely ADHD-riddled toddlers. Everything I own is tattered and stained, if not out and out broken. Both boys continued wailing and flailing on the floor like recently sprayed cockroaches. I reached down and picked them both up, one under each of my arms, and carried them to the bathtub.

“Yay, bathtime!” said Jimmy.

“Daddy, we have a bath?” asked Chase.

“Yes boys, it's time to get you clean. But we’re just going to do a quick rinse off”.

The momentary lapse in the wailing, complaining, and negotiating ended as abruptly as it had started.

“No! No shower!” screamed Jimmy, almost flailing himself free of my hold.

“Yay, shower! It raining!” cheered Chase. He began jumping up and down, flapping his arms and hands. He is on the autism spectrum, so this is normal fare for us. I say ‘us’ because my wife entered and started to help me strip the boys down and get them in the tub. 

“Mommy, I no want a shower!” Jimmy pleaded.

“Oh, well I am sure Daddy will let you have a bath”.

“No! I want a shower!” wailed Chase.

“Honey, I already told them it was going to be a shower”.

“Why? Jimmy hates showers. Can’t you just give them a bath?”

I took a deep breath. “I offered him a bath 30 minutes ago, but he said he wanted to keep playing. I told him he could, but he would need to take a shower. And he agreed to that,” I explained, trying my best to keep a calm tone.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” she said.

“I want a bath!” screamed Jimmy, seeing the tides turning against him.

“Well, I said he could have a bath. Can’t you just give him a bath?”

“I want a shower!” Chase wailed.

“Do you want to give them a bath then?” I asked my wife 

She gave me another unimpressed look before leaving the bathroom.

In the end, Jimmy got a bath. 

“Jimmy, don’t throw water out of the tub! You’re getting the floor all wet!”

“I no throw it on the floor. I throwed it at Chase,” he said while throwing yet another cup at his brother, followed by a splatter on the floor.

“I told you to stop twelve times. If you don’t stop, I am going to turn on the shower and pull out the stopper”.

“No, I want to play in the bathtub!” Jimmy cried.

“Yay, shower!” said Chase.

Chase started jumping up and down in the tub, flapping his arms and hands. 

“No, Chase! Sit down in the tub!”

I reached out and caught him by the arm just as his feet slipped. Despite my timely catch, his right foot came up and caught Jimmy right under the chin. Chase’s elbow hit against the side of the tub.

With both boys wailing and Jimmy trying to resume his headlock and Chase, I pulled them both out and placed them on the bathroom mat. Water dripped off of them like rain onto the mat. Two hooded towels, adorned with cartoon characters, quickly went onto their heads. They squatted down and curled into defensive positions like two roly-polies. I tried my best to pry each of them open so I could work the towel inside and dry them off. 

“I no want this towel! I want the green one!” wailed Chase.

“The green one is in the dirties,” I said.

“No, it clean!” called Jimmy.

“You don’t know what you are talking about, Jimmy. Quiet down”. 

“I want the green towel!” Chase repeated.

“Ugh! You’re both dry. Go to mama”.

I guided them both out the bathroom door and into the living room. My wife and I got them into nighttime diapers and pajamas. There was much weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. I have always wished there were pajamas that were more like straight jackets. It wouldn’t be mean; it would be like a warm hug all night long. And they could make them fuzzy with feet and cartoon characters. It’d be a real hit.

“Ok, time to go to your room for books, then bedtime”.

“No! It still daytime!”

“It’s sunset. By the time you get into bed for reals, it’ll be dark outside”.

“I want to read books,” said Chase.

“We are going to read books. Three books. Just like we do every night.”

I began to shepherd them to their bedroom. I was in the clear. I could get them in, shut the door, and I would be able to sit down and relax.

“I need a snack!” called Jimmy.

“Oh, are you hungry?” my wife asked in a caring tone.

“He just had dinner an hour ago! And he said he was too full to eat all of his macaroni and cheese. He is fine. It’s bedtime”.

“Mama, I hungry! My tummy says I hungry!” Jimmy sobbed.

“I want ice cream!” cheered Chase.

My wife and I spoke almost simultaneously: “No ice cream” and “What flavor?”

Well, Chase got chocolate ice cream and Jimmy got a bowl of cereal. I don’t even know how that happened. I sat in the boys’ room in the rocking recliner, eyes closed, feet raised. I occasionally checked my watch. The holy hour of bedtime had passed. The witching hour was upon us. But instead of my children crying, they were giggling and talking to each other. And of course, their favorite show was playing while the ice cream melted in the bowl and the cereal dissolved into nothing. The voices of cartoon dogs were taunts and ridicule to my ears. 

I got up. I walked to my wife. “Will the boys be joining me in the bedroom for books in the near future?”

“Oh, were you waiting for us? We were waiting for you. Where’d you go?” 

“I have been waiting in the boys’ room for them to finish eating”.

“Oh. Ok. Well, I think they are done. Chase doesn’t like this brand of chocolate ice cream, he says, and Jimmy can’t focus long enough to eat much of his cereal”.

“Ok then, I guess it's time to move. Jimmy! Chase! Time to read books. Put your bowls in the sink and– “

“I want to finish my show!” wailed Jimmy.

“I want to eat my ice cream, Daddy,” said Chase.

I took several deep breaths as they repeated themselves over and over again. Finally, I turned to my wife and said, “Honey, please just let me know when they're ready”.

“Where are you going?” she asked my back as I walked away. 

“Oh, I’ll just be in the boys’ room, crying in the chair”.

“Oh, well ok, drama queen. Have fun. Take some tissues,” she said.

I could feel her eyes rolling in my soul. I flopped back down in the chair. From there, I quickly slipped into a fugue state. Time lost all hold on me. I floated between numb nothingness and the fiery torments of the evil one, unaware of myself, my identity, my wants, my goals, my dreams, or my thumb scrolling mindlessly through news articles. I existed in nothingness until my wife shook my shoulder. 

“Did you fall asleep?” she asked me.

“Oh, I am not so lucky,” I sighed.

“Ok? Anyway, they’re done eating”.

“Great. Send them in. I am ready for them”.

“Um, they still need their teeth brushed”.

“Well, I wish you luck in that endeavor,” I said and gave her a salute.

“I can’t do it. I have to go. My friends are meeting up for late night appetizers at 9:00”. 

I stood up from the chair. I followed her out of the room.

“Boys, give me a kiss goodnight. Mommy has to go. Daddy is going to brush your teeth”.

“I no want to brush my teeth!” screamed Chase.

“Why are you leaving us?” cried Jimmy.

“I’m just going to spend time with my friends,” she sighed.

“But I want you to brush my teeth!” 

“I know. But Daddy will do it. He does a good job”.

“No! I want mommy!” Jimmy screeched.

“Honey, don’t you have time to brush teeth with them?” I asked, innocently.

Her head snapped back towards me with the range of neck motion of an owl. If looks could kill, I would have gotten out of the bedtime battle once and for all right then. But alas, no. 

“Momma. Can you brush my teeth instead of Daddy?” asked Jimmy in a sad, puppy dog beg. 

“Ok. I can brush your teeth. But no fighting me about it”.

“Yay! Mommy!” he squealed with delight.

My wife winced and stood up. “Well, I won’t be able to hear out of that ear for a while”.

I sat in the chair again. I could hear the cries and screams as Jimmy quickly broke the armistice. 

“I no want the pink toothpaste! I want blue toothpaste!” he cried.

“The blue toothpaste is gone! And you like the pink one. We’ve been using it for the last three weeks!” she said.

I waited for the inevitable reply.

“No, I hate pink toothpaste!”

Yep, there it was.

“Ok, all done with teeth. Go to daddy in the room. He’s waiting to read you books!” she said.

“Yay! Books!” cheered Chase. 

I heard rapid footsteps and then felt him jump on my lap. Unfortunately, he dragged one knee up as he sprang upwards onto my lap. I grimaced as a lightning bolt of pain shot up from my nether regions and into my stomach, where it turned into nausea.

“Chase, you need to be careful of Daddy. You hurt me”.

“Can we read three books for bedtime, Daddy?” he said, with a sing-song intonation to his voice.

I sighed. “Of course, buddy. Go pick us out some books”.

He hopped off my lap and went to the bookshelf. Then he also looked through the books that were strewn about on the floor. The floor was a place of honor for their most beloved books. As he did so, I could hear my wife facing off with Jimmy in the bathroom.

“I need to go potty!” he screamed.

“You just pooped and peed while I brushed Chase’s teeth. You’re good. Go to bed!”

“I need to poop again!”

“Urgh, fine. Get on the potty”.

My wife came into the room. “I need to go. I’m already late. You’ll have to listen for Jimmy so you can help him when he’s done”.

“Ok, Honey. Drive safe and have fun”.

“Thanks. Good luck with the boys”.

“Oh, I think that ship sailed a long time ago”.

“Sorry. But I need to go. Bye”.

I sat in the chair. Chase was reading a book to himself by memory on his bed. I asked if he wanted to sit with me and have me read it, but he was so absorbed in the book that he probably didn’t even hear me. I listened for Jimmy to call for me or flush the toilet or something. I listened, and I listened, and listened.

When I finished reading one last news article on my phone, Jimmy’s time was officially up. I looked up and realized that Chase was asleep in his bed with an open book across his chest. A quarter hour had passed. I got up and left the room silently. As I neared the bathroom, I called, “Jimmy, are you almost done? I’ve been- “.

Jimmy was not on the toilet. He was not washing his hands. He was, instead, inside the cupboards of the vanity. He appeared to be sorting out the various items into small piles. There was a pile of soap, a pile of toothbrushes from the dentist office, and piles of travel sized toothpaste tubes.

“Jimmy, why aren’t you on the potty?”

“Look, Daddy! I found blue toothpaste!” he said with a toothy grin.

Sure enough, a tube of kid’s toothpaste from the dentist was in his hand, pulled from the far reaches of a vanity cupboard. I hung my head. “That’s great, buddy.”

“Can you brush my teeth?”

“Mom already brushed- “.

“I WANT YOU BRUSH MY TEETH WITH BLUE TOOTHPASTE!” he bellowed.

“Fine. Whatever. Stand up and I’ll brush your teeth with blue toothpaste”.

“Yay!”

While I brushed his teeth, he regaled me with odes to the virtues of blue toothpaste. And to think our dentist is over there in his office just giving it away! We left the bathroom and went to the bedroom. I stopped at the door, lowered myself until I was eye to eye with Jimmy, and talked to him face to face.

“Listen. Chase is asleep, so we need to go in quietly. Go straight to your bed. Then I will tuck you in. Ok? Do not wake up your brother. Can you do that?”

“I want books!” he shouted.

“If you wanted books, you shouldn’t have spent 15 minutes digging through the bathroom cupboards”.

He began to stomp his feet to the rhythm of his chant, “I want 3 books! I want 3 books! I want 3 books NOW!”

Moments later, Jimmy and I were sitting in the big rocking recliner. I read him books as quietly as he would allow. I used my phone’s flashlight to see the pages in the dark room. Chase slept like a moss covered log. For once, I guess luck had been on my side. Huh. Nice!

Once I had voice acted my way through three lengthy, tongue-twisting stories, I began tucking Jimmy into bed.

“Daddy, can you play me some songs?” he asked.

“Sure buddy. If you lay here quietly, I’ll play you some songs from my phone”.

“Show songs?”

“Yes, buddy. I’ll play you songs from your favorite show”.

“Thanks, Daddy. I love you. You’re the best Daddy”.

“Love you too, Jimmy”.

I turned off the light, turned on the sound machine, and sat in the chair. Music played from my phone as I read some more news articles. Jimmy would ask me the occasional question about literally any random thing.

“Where did my teddy bear go?”

“I have no idea”.

“Is mommy home?”

“No, she left. Remember? She kissed you goodnight and she walked out the door”.

“Oh, yeah”.

Thirty second pause…

“Daddy?”

“Yes? What?”

“Can you call mommy to see if she is coming home?”

“No. Go to sleep”.

Finally, after thirty minutes, Jimmy appeared to be asleep. It was finally time to get this bedtime routine over with. It was only 9:45 pm. The bedtime routine only took two hours and 15 minutes. I could still get some time in on my favorite video game. Maybe a whole hour before I needed to go to bed. A whole hour to myself!

My pocket buzzed. I pulled out my phone and a pale glow lit the room. There was a notification on my lock screen from my wife, which read: Please do the dishes for me. I am probably going to be out pretty late. Thx. XOXO”.

Well, maybe a half hour of gaming. That would be something. Not much, but something. I tiptoed out, turned the doorknob slowly, and-

“Daddy, I need to go poop”.

THE END