I recall the bedtime routines. You send the children to bed. The story has been read, the snack has been eaten, and the prayers have been said.
“Mom, I needa go potty.” I don’t know a parent on earth who ignores this one. It could be real you know.
“Don’t forget to get a drink while you’re at it,” You say hoping you’ve thought of everything. So you wait patiently for the footfalls down the stairs and back up the stairs to end in a second or third bed-going.
And the art isn’t forgotten by the time they’re teenagers. It’s quite honed by this time…into more like what happens in Congress. Talking for hours: with their friends at slumber parties instead of sleeping, on email instead of chores, and with Mom and Dad instead of going to bed at night. What’s so novel about filibustering, pray tell!