Night-night overcooked

Tired. Late. Home from meeting.

Kid. Tired. Up too late. Uncooperative.

Argument. Not gonna go his way. No books.

Fit Ensues. Screaming in bed.

Ten minutes elapses.

"Jack, why are you crying now?"

"I want a BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOK. I want Hands, Hands, Finger, Thumb. It'll have it, it is FIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!!!!!!!!!"

"Jack, you are punished from the book buddy. You didn't listen to mommy. You aren't gonna get a book tonight. Period."

I climb into the bed and pull him over. "Stop crying. Calm down, I'll lay here and rub your back."

Quiets.

"Mommy, if you don't read me a book, I WILL NOT kiss you goodnight."

"O.k., whatever you have to do."

More quiet. Eyes closed. Thumb sucking. Total calm. So close to thinking he might be asleep. Slow little face rises up and gets next to mine. Makes loud "Mwwwwa" sound. This is a Jack kiss.

I smile and rub his back. He couldn't take it, the guilt, I guess, of not kissing me good night. Somewhere deep down inside, he has a sweet heart, and a conscience, after all.