nighttime tea.

dinnerbathbed and the quiet revelation of a shared pot of tea.

Do not try to reach me between the hours of 6:00 pm and 9:00 pm. I am out of office, otherwise occupied. She’s not available at the moment, can I take a message?

These hours play host to the daily marathon that I refer to as dinnerbathbed, but that also includes such tasks as unpacking backpacks, overseeing homework, arbitrating sibling squabbles, setting the table, doing the dishes, combing wet hair, investigating scrapes, finding the good jammies, reading books, doling out dessert, brushing teeth, and listening to the tales of joy and doubt that can squeak out only in the liminal moments just before sleep.

I am not always at my best in these hours. Sometimes I’m exhausted and longing to only worry after putting on my own good jammies and losing the day in a book. Often I’m impatient about the need to remind small kids to stay on top of their very routine tasks. We unpack our backpacks every day. Please come set the table. Yes, you do need to brush your teeth. Sometimes my brain feels like it might break from the competing demands of three kids and one spouse and my own human needs. Why it so loud in here? Why did I just step in something wet? Please, for the love of god, close the bathroom door.