It’s past youngest daughters bed time but she just popped into my office to ask me to sew up a hole that has developed in one of the small stuffed dogs that she sleeps with.
‘Okay. I will in a minute,’ I tell her. ‘Now go and get Daddy and ask him to tuck you in.’
‘He already did,’ she tells me with a frown. ‘But it wasn’t very good.’
Oh? I look up from my laptop. Now I’m curious.
‘Not a very good ‘tuck-in’? So tell me, what would a good ‘tuck-in’ be?’
‘A good tuck in means he tucks me in, reads to me and then stays and talks to me.’ she replies.
I can hear the hockey game playing on the TV down the hall, and so I figure that hubby probably rushed through his time with youngest daughter a little so he could catch a few minutes of the overtime in tonight’s hockey game with Darling Son.
‘Mmm. So, which part did Daddy skip?’
‘None,’ she replies, ‘He just did them all too fast and didn’t pay attention.’
‘Oh. So, can I come up and do it again for him?’ I ask.
‘I guess,’ she replies. ‘But I’m still giving him an ‘F’ for it.’
Hubby got an ‘F’ for his tuck in skills tonight.
I’m heading back to school again next week and it doesn’t help my confidence to know that I’m probably gonna fail ‘tuck-in’ with my seven year old at some point too.
It’s going to be a long term.