It's 9:30 and I've decided I'm giving up on rewriting this particular page, so I grab the laundry that's just finished and I head upstairs to watch the remixed fourth season of Arrested Development with the love of my life™.
As I pass the studio, Top Management starts guiltily. "Is it bedtime?" she semi-yells, making it quite obvious that she's doing something she herself kinda thinks is a perhaps just a wee bit on the wrongish side. As though I required further proof, just then I see a smallish person wearing a bright red shirt—a shirt which had originally belonged to me and is now used as a nightshirt by my youngest daughter—duck down behind a chair, as a video of some hideous Broadway show blares on the laptop.
Just then the Bean comes in. "It's bedtime," she says, apparently unaware of her mother semi-yelling that very word just moments before, but quite aware that her mother had recently said she thought her three youngest kids weren't getting enough sleep and that they should be going to bed earlier. The Bean peeks into the studio and sees the Golden Weasel trying in vain to hide behind Top Management.
The Bean sighs. "Mom's an enabler," she says, before heading in to join the viewing.
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