Paytyn Loyd

“One more kisses?”

Laying on her back with her blanket tucked up under her chin and a smirk on her face, my 21-month old daughter confidently asks the question she knows will postpone bedtime.

“One more kisses?”

It happens at the same time each night.  I put her in the jammies with the pink hearts on front, help her brush her teeth, turn on her night light, start her lullaby music, rock her in the chair, read a story and pray with her.  And then, to complete the daily routine, I lay her down in her bed and pile her animals and blanket around her.

All the right people are present.  The old school version of Pooh Bear is there.  So is the fluffy, white bear that I named “Bernard” but Paytyn decided should be called “Meman” instead.   And, of course, the blanket.  Each is an essential member of the bedtime routine.

I kiss her goodnight.  I run my fingers through her hair and tell her I love her and to sleep well (and secretly pray it will be late into the morning).

And as I walk away, knowing she is waiting for just the perfect timing, I reach the bedroom door about to leave and I hear a delicate voice….

“One more kisses?”

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