Sometimes we say bedtime prayers. Not all the time. I don't push it. It's usually the boys who will bring it up:
"Who wants to say a prayer? Okay, I'll go first then."
Last night was one of those nights. Clayton suggested it. For a long time, as an homage to Despicable Me, or a joke, or simply to annoy his brother, he insisted on ending every prayer with:
..."and please let the mommy and daddy be nice, and let them have a pet unicorn. Amen."
He's let that one go, for now. Last night went a little like this:
"Dear God...thank you for all the animals and the fish and the birds and the grass. But we kind of have a problem because I'm a little annoyed with you about making the things that can eat us. So, could you back off about that a little bit, you know, about the sharks and stuff? Because that's so not cool, God. You know how I feel about sharks. They're okay to look at but I don't want to be eated by one. That's not a funny joke. Amen."
Then it's Esten's turn.
"GRRRR. MOM!!! It was MY TURN! He already said AMEN! That means you're DONE!"
"But I forgot something. And God, please watch over us while we sleep, and watch over Daddy while he works, and help him to catch the bad guys, and if they try to run away, help him by sending lightning to shock them, but don't kill them so they can still go to jail. Amen. Okay, I'm done."
[Me, in the middle, in the dark, holding my breath and trying not to laugh.]
"FINALLY. Dear God....please watch over us and Daddy and all of that. And please listen very, very carefully. Please help me to get revenge on the girl who won the remote control robot for the fundraiser at school because you know I wanted it way more than her. Or just help me to get the remote control because then it won't even work for her and she'll just want to throw it away, and then I can have it. I would be your best friend forever. Amen."
I couldn't take it anymore, my conscience made me intervene.
"Esten, you know you aren't really supposed to use prayers or wishes against other people. Do you really think God is going to help you take a toy away from someone else?"
"Duh, Mom. Yeah. I DO think that he would do that. He loves me."
And that was it. My sweet, caring, innocent baby boy is gone, replaced by a conniving, plotting, moo-hoo-hoo-ha-ha-ha-ing little nut job. My little boy has almost become a politician.