Sprout took her role as Peyton’s caregiver very seriously. With the exception of her bath, Sprout kept Peyton by her side for the entire evening—even bringing his special blanket into bed with her so Peyton wouldn’t get cold.
Not so deep inside that rambunctious, precocious, stubborn little girl of mine is a very sweet, nurturing person.
Something unexpected happened while tucking the Bean into bed for the past two nights. The routine started out the familiar way, with stories (currently the 7th reading of Diary of a Wimpy Kid). I got up to read and turn off the lights. The Bean didn’t ask for it (it being me singing Mary Had a Little Lamb while spraying “scary spray” in each corner of the room. I decided to make a test of it and didn’t mention it. In the past when I’d forgotten to sing, the Bean would come out of his room a few minutes later and let me know my error. Time passed and he didn’t come out. The next night, same thing: I didn’t sing. He didn’t ask.
It could very well be that my boy is growing up.