My kids already know all the things that I tell them.
“You are supposed to be getting ready for bed!”
“I know.”
“8 times 7 is 56, not 54.”
“I know.”
“No, you cannot play Angry Birds right now.”
“I know, I just thought I’d ask.”
Whatever. Admitting you don’t know is hard. I know.
“Ben, can I tell you a secret?” I asked tonight at bedtime.
“OK.”
I whispered in his ear, “I love … Phineas and Ferb.”
“That’s not what you were going to say! You were going to say, ‘I love you.’”
“Come here. I have another secret. I love … chocolate cake.”
“Mom!”
I leaned in one last time. ”I love … you!”
“I knew it!”
When I tucked Karina in, I told her my first two “secrets,” too. She pulled back after each and looked askance at me as only a 6-year-old can do.
Then I whispered “I love you” in her ear.
“Well, I already know that! Of course you do!”
“Mom! Mom! I wanna hear the secrets,” Riya called from the top bunk.
“OK,” I said, “here they are. One, I love … chocolate cake. Two, I love … Phineas and Ferb. Three-”
“You love me!”
If there is one thing they truly do know, it should be that.