“Can help you! Caaan helpyoo!”
It’s just another night at the Mott home these days. The kids are in bed, but they’re certainly not sleeping. Jane is skimming through a large stack of picture books, and Abby is calling for her parents. She doesn’t want water. She doesn’t need a nightlight. She found a rough patch along the edge of her fingernails and she wants us to bring the nail clippers and take care of things as soon as possible. So she calls for help. I slip the flashlight between my teeth and grab the clippers. As I peer into the crib, Abby holds up the offending hand and I quickly assess each nail with my fingers. Ahh, got it. <clip>
“Nite nite, dada.”
“Mmmm-mwuah! Love you!”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” But chances are, I’ll probably see her again tonight.