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All right, big guy, timefor bed.”
“Ahh.”
“I know, sucks being a kid with a roof over your head, ready-made food whenever you’re hungry, a warm bed to sleep in, and parents who love you more than you know. Man, that sucks.”
“I didn’t say it sucks. I like it. Just not the going-to-bed part.” He jumps on his bed, slipping under the covers.
“I’m glad you cleared that part up. You want a story tonight?”
“Sure.”
“How about the boy who cried wolf?” I ask, flipping through the books on his bookshelf.
“Nooo. Remember what happened last time?”
“Oh, yeah.” In the middle of the night, he slipped into our bed on my side, on about an inch of space. I don’t know how he managed to stay on. Then he peed the bed. He was embarrassed enough to make me promise not to tell his mom.
I sit next to him, settle in, and put my arm around him, opening the book that’s guaranteed not to give nightmares, Good Night Moon. I start and finish without an interruption from him. I kiss him on the head. “Good night, buddy.” I’m about to get up when his words stop me.
“Dad.”
“No more water. No more stories,” I say, with my I mean it voice. “Anything else?”
“Do you still love Mommy?”
Whoa. “Why would you ask that?”
“Why don’t you sleep in the same room anymore?”
Oh, man. I didn’t think he noticed. He goes to bed way before we do.
“You’re grumpy a lot and then she gets angry. Then you leave and go to work. You come back when it’s time to read the story.”
Shit. I try to keep my face neutral.
“You don’t love her anymore?”
“Of course I love your mom.” I love her, but not that way. How am I going to explain this to him? In his little mind, it’s either you do or you don’t. If I don’t, it’s the end of the world to him.
“Why are you not in the same room anymore?”
“Jack…your mom and I love each other, and we love you. Sometimes mommies and daddies don’t agree on things, and we need our own little…spaces for a time to think.”
He thinks about it, his brows dipping low then coming back up. “Like a timeout for adults who don’t listen?”
I give a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, something like that. We need an adult timeout to figure out what we want. To try and hear what the other person is trying to say.”
“Oh.” His mouth opens in a circle. “Are you leaving?”
“No. I’m not going back to work tonight.”
“Okay.” He smiles, closing his eyes and burying his head under the sheets, his way of keeping bad things out at night since he was two and started sleeping by himself. “Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, too, Jackson.” I shut the light off, leaving the door open a crack.
You think you’re doing right by your kid, being careful with your decisions. On nights like tonight, I question myself.
“Hey, Bree, have a second? Can I come in?”
