It's 9:15 p.m. and I just finished a 45-minute bedtime. I wouldn't call it routine because bedtime, like snowflakes, means no two are alike. At least that's the case in the House O' Sabo. Let me quickly account for the Sabo children. I believe there's 12 of them. Our three oldest boys are out watching a friend's soccer game. Our two oldest girls are playing with our baby while Julie is talking to one of her sisters on the phone. I believe the two remaining girls are in bed. That leaves four little boys who, last I saw, were in bed upstairs.
From the time I announced it was time to get the p.j.'s on and brush teeth, to the time I walked out of the room, I do believe 45 minutes had expired. In between were three reminders to Eli to brush his teeth and don pajamas -- I was doing this while loading the dishwasher with 9 bowls from our ice cream dessert and miscellaneous cups to quench thirsts of varying degrees. Claire, bless her heart, helped Ezra into his pajamas and brushed his teeth, then eventually I made it upstairs. Tonight I read Acts 9 about Saul's conversion on the road to Damascus, then I read a Jonah and the whale storybook, then we said prayers, then by popular demand I told a story.
So to be brutally honest, the story may not have been the best subject matter. I understand my audience (that would be 4 boys between the ages of 2 and 9) so the storyline revolved around a prince who had an issue with um, flatulence, due to his love of bean burritos and how he had to give those up to secure the love interest of a beautiful princess. The bottom line was that it was well received: Mission accomplished. Then two of the boys wanted to tell their own stories ... and the bar was set pretty low by yours truly ... eventually I made it out of there exhausted. Now it's time to try and get Miss Olivia asleep. Not only that, but to successfully get her in her bed while still sleeping. Then it's time to study for my Old Testament mid-term on Friday ... adios.