The Sheriff's in Town

Why do my two boys think that "bedtime" is synonymous with "let’s get crazy, then fight?"

After one week off from school, vacation was over and school was the next morning. I was tired and I was serious.

Last night I wanted the boys in bed at 4 p.m. OK, not really, but I thought 9 was reasonable. I was in no mood for nonsense, considering I already had to wrestle them to ground, just to get them in pajamas. They thought it was perfectly reasonable to run, screaming and giggling, up over the furniture riding the dog, whooping it up like they were cattle rustlers.

Unfortunately the cattle happened to be the cat, so once the dog rustled her from hiding she ran, up over the furniture, but not giggling, which got the dog to whoop it up even more. Thus, the bedtime ritual had begun. This rowdy behavior lasted only for about 10 minutes until the dog corralled the cat that looked a lot like a wet, hairy mop.

This all started precisely at the same time the telephone rang. The call was for my husband. Now, I knew it wasn’t his fault. I knew, too, that it never was his fault that the phone rang each evening at 8:45, when it was bedtime. He scooted off to a quiet room, shrugging his shoulders as an attempt to show me that he wasn’t at fault. I’m a mother and we know things and one thing is that look of innocence does not fool me. I have seen it on my boys’ faces too many times, and I can’t be fooled.

After this rodeo ride the cattle capturing cowboys come to blows. Apparently there was a dispute over land territory. The nine-year old had staked a claim to the television but the six-year-old was enforcing his ‘squatter-rights’ on the remote. Now, having to be the sinister sheriff, I went into this hostile territory to break up the feud. The remote was in the pant leg of 6-year-old’s pajamas, so rather than try to retrieve it, because he was sitting on it, I just unplugged the TV.

They weren’t laughing any more. Well not until I informed them that “I had, had enough, I was serious and if they didn’t get to bed and go to sleep, then major consequences would follow.”

This was when 9-year-old informed me that it was hard to for them to know I was serious because my pajamas were on backwards. Maybe that was why they didn’t believe I was the sheriff – they couldn’t see the badge. So, after I peeled them from the ceiling, shared a good giggle with them I kissed them good night.

I don’t know when they finally did settle down and go to sleep but it was long before my husband snuck out of the quiet room to hang up the phone. Oh, I will get even…tomorrow he will get the pleasure to tuck the boys in starting the bedtime ritual at 7:30. I will simply hold the phone to my ear, move my lips every so often and shrug – Ah, the ring of justice will sound so sweet.