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When the kids go to bed peacefully
The books have been read.
The teeth are all brushed,
as is the hair. The lights,
aside from the Tinkerbelle
nightlight, are out. I have
not tucked in the little one
(I don't wike the bwankets)
and I'm almost done
rubbing the big one's back
to help her go to sleep.
I kiss the back of her head
and she spins – blatantly
not sleeping – as she lifts
her arms to give me one last
gigantic hug to end the day,
she tells me,
"You're the best Daddy
in the world."
And with her (them)
as evidence,
she may be right.