My twelve year old came out of her room and said, “I cannot sleep because tomorrow is already bothering me.”
I did not know whether to comfort her or ask if she had been reading my diary.
I Want the Bartender, Not Another Date Night
He remembers my drink. My husband forgets I am there.
July 22, 2026
24 Comments
Somebody get this kid a tiny coffee.
I am with the kid. Love and dinner quality are separate issues.
I would have laughed, then cried in the pantry.
No notes. Perfect review.
Honestly I do not like the dinner either and I have not seen it.
Honestly same, tiny philosopher.
That child just delivered a peer reviewed dinner critique.
Same. Tomorrow is being suspicious already.
A philosopher in dinosaur pajamas.
That sentence belongs in a sad little poetry book.
I need this on a shirt immediately.
The tiny attorney has entered evidence.
That baby has anxiety, timing and a strong opening line.
Tomorrow has been bothering me since 2009, little friend.
That kid said what every adult at the table was thinking.
Children are basically unlicensed therapists with crackers.
The tiny people are getting too observant.
Kids do not soften the review for the chef.
The food critic has entered the chat.
I laughed and then felt personally attacked.
This is the most accurate description of bedtime anxiety I have ever heard.
I hope somebody wrote this in the baby book.