I tried to be angry.
“Mommy, I’m having trouble falling asleep. Will you sleep with me?”
I tried to be mad that they weren’t asleep yet at 9:30.
I tried to be upset that he interrupted my time with the hubby.
I tried to be irritated that he wanted me to stop watching Glee to help him fall asleep.
I laid down amongst the stuffed animals and Thomas sheets, and he smiled a sleepy smile across the pillow, put his arm across my back, and closed his eyes.
I tried to be mad.
And I failed.