OF BEDTIME STORIES AND ADVENTURES

huck in his favorite polarn o. pyret hoodie last year, 'cause this post is a sponsored post, sponsored by polarn o. pyret.

thanks, guys!

i was mopping the floor the other night (don't get excited), when i started thinking of all the old bedtime stories my dad used to tell us girls about the crazy mischief he and his brothers would get into when they were little boys. 

we'd eat up every word of those stories. they were the greatest because not only is my dad an amazing story teller, but also they were real, they'd really happened. those stories were the stuff of legend for girls like us who preferred not to get their dresses dirty.

one year for christmas he wrote all his stories down and had them bound for his girls. including hand-drawn illustrations, because my dad is the best.

so, the other night. i was (finally) mopping huck's yogurt footprints up off the floors. (vanilla yogurt footprints, so you could only see them when the light hit them just right. they made me happy for days when i'd see them, i almost hated to see them go.) huck quickly realized that if he took off at a sprint and then stopped mid step, he'd get some delightful skidding action on his bare feet for a few inches before falling decidedly hard, square on his diapered bottom. wiiiiiith a lollipop in his mouth. of course. the element of danger.

it doesn't take a genius parent to know this was an accident waiting to happen, so i did my whole thing. you know the one:

no running in the house!

huck! i mean it!

huck, i'm going to count to three!

(counting to three is super fun stuff, so for this one huck stopped sliding around and counted along with me, "doo! doo! fweee!" and then promptly resumed his sliding seconds later. so, not so effective.)

the next round huck slid not only on his feet but also on his bum and didn't stop until he'd gotten halfway under the couch. stuck like a pig with lollipop drool running down the side of his cheek, and giggling hysterically.

before my temper could get the best of me i had this vision in my mind of my huck telling his own pajama-clad girls this story at bedtime some day.

"i used to strip off my socks, plant my lollipop firmly between my teeth, and then RUN, and i got so wedged under that couch, that your grandma had to come pull me out by my arms...."

and then i realized he had every right to slide on those wet hardwoods. who was i to deprive my future grandkids of good bedtime stories? 

only, maybe hand over that lollipop first, mister.