tuck in time.

I love the simple honesty of six.

Tucking Otto in at bedtime is always sweet.  He’s cuddly and huggy and all adorable with his back rubs and his face touches and his little cooing noises.

But it’s been a little hard lately come the bedtime hour because it seems as though we returned from Virginia but perhaps Baby Timmy has not.

As if we need anything else to make our bedtime routine more traumatic than it already is.

(Baby Timmy.  Otto’s special blanket.  His special very-very-worn-out-kind-of-super-gross-but-special-to-us-ratty-torn-up-tied-together-used-to-be-yellow blanket and sleeping companion.  Yes, I agree that six might be too old for such a ragged out sleeping buddy.  But.  I don’t care.)

Anyway.

Tonight.  Bedtime.  Scratching his back, beneath his shirt of course because that always feels better, and his eyes are drooping wild and he whispers and blurs his words, “I love you Mommy.  I like when you scratch in my arm pits.”