She had me at hello

We tuck our kids in at night. Get them into bed, give them a kiss and a hug, tell them we love them. Night night, sleep tight, and all that. We don't sing lullabies, but we used to. Funny aside: when the boy was just a tiny tyke, he asked us to sing the "Cheese is a person in your neighborhood" song every night. (Google "Ben Stiller Sesame Street"). E-v-e-r-y night.

Another aside (just for me): When the boy was just a tiny baby, I used to sing to him,

On the day that you were born
The angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moondust in your hair
Of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue

[sigh]

Anyway ... Back to the present bedtime ritual -- sometimes, if mom or dad isn't feeling well, we ask the kids if we can say goodnight to them in our own room or wherever we happen to be lying prostrate and incapacitated.

The other night, Daddy was listless (cold, fever, etc.) in the living room and had the kids say goodnight to him there. They hugged and kissed him and made their way to their rooms. Mommy tucked them in, according to custom.

After lights-out, the girl crept tentatively into the living room, snuggled up to Mommy and ventured the following statement, fraught with the hemming and hawing of a kid who knows she is not supposed to be out of bed:

I don't know why ... but when one of you comes ... and one of you doesn't come into my room ... I don't feel ... complete.

You can believe that Daddy got up off his sick patootie and tucked that girl in.

He completes her, you know. And so do I. For now, anyway.