“Madison, please stop talking.”
It was The Voice time and time we usually spend together commenting on how much we like or don’t like the singers and how much she wants them to always pick Christina.
Tonight though she decides that her main goal in life is to annoy me with some incessant noise making and talking.
“Knock knock mommy.”
“Madison please stop.”
“Random spit in the mouth swishing sound that is nationally known as spine tingling to me.”
“Madison Ingrid, 1…”
Yeah. I count. Not my proudest mommy moment ever. And her least favorite thing in contrast to, who’s there?
But she stops spit swishing and she stops talking. Success.
Bedtime rolls around and it’s Daddy’s turn at bat. He hits one out of the ballpark and giggles abound. I lean in for my kiss goodnight and feel nothing but air as she sprints away and sails up the stairs.
I get out the crutches and get help off the couch and go upstairs to give a proper goodnight.
No hidden smirk.
Barely a glance in my direction.
I’m getting the silent treatment from my six-year-old. In a moment of hurt I head back downstairs and finish my show. I’m not sure who’s singing or who they choose.
Before I go to bed I sneak into her room and softly kiss her cheek over and over and whisper how much I love her and that I love her knock, knock jokes.
I go to sleep with a little lighter of a heart not quite healed.
Morning comes and I feel a kiss on my cheek. I squeeze open my eyes and smile.
“Knock knock, mommy.”
“Who’s there, Maddie?”