Mr. Grumpy-face

Around 8:00 every night, the ritual takes place. Those who find themselves visitors in our house on a regular basis have become accustomed to the ritual.

Last night, the ritual went like this. "Time to get ready for bed!" I said, and Ethan and Tristan put up their obligatory (and often, quite determined) protests. "Time for bed, or no bedtime story!" Off they go, with some encouragement and prodding, to brush their teeth and put their pajamas on. Tristan, who's just three, still needs help in this department, and last night, he was in a playful/grumpy mood. I don't know how someone can be both playful and grumpy at the same time, but he manages it.

In his bedroom, with his pajamas laid out for him, he crossed his arms in front of him, lowered his head, and put on an oscar-worthy pouty face. I walked in and began to help him get dressed for bed, while talking to him. "Come on, Mr. Grumpy-face, time to put on our pajamas. Let's put the shirt on, Mr. Grumpy-face. Now the pants, Mr. Grumpy-face." For some reason, the more I call him Mr. Grumpy-face, the harder it is for him to maintain that grumpy look. Finally I said to him, "Come on, is that the best grumpy face you can give me? Let me see a real grumpy face!" At which point he re-crossed his arms, stuck his lower lip out, and then, despite his best efforts, started to laugh.

"Time for bedtime prayers!" Grumpy face returns. "Time to say 'God-blesses.'" Usually, Tristan likes to say the 'Godblesses.' But not Mr. Grumpy-face. So I started naming the people in our family: "God bless Mommy, God bless Daddy, God bless Ethan, God bless your teachers and your friends at preschool, God bless Grandma and Grandpa...." I was going to conclude with, "And God bless Mr. Grumpy-face," but just when the words were on the tip of my tongue, Tristan stole them from me: " ... and God bless Mr. Grumpy-face."

God bless, indeed.