Thursday night Dakota and I were standing outside the school, waiting for her father. Her swimming lesson had just finished, and as we waited, a group of kindergarteners and first-graders came out. (Note: D goes to bed at 8:30 when activities don't prohibit; her little sister, who is 6, goes to bed at 8:00)
Dakota: "They're going bowling."
Me: "Now?"
Dakota: "Yeah. That's what they said. They were all excited."
Me: "It's 7:15 on a school night!" (It would take 15 minutes to get to the bowling alley, figure half an hour MINIMUM to bowl, home well after 8...)
Dakota: "Yeah, I know." Pause. "I'm so glad I was raised right."
Me, stunned and pleased: "What a great kid you are. Thank you." Kiss on the head. "I'm proud of you."
Dakota, after the hug. "Is this one of those moments that makes parenting worthwhile?"
Me: "Honey, with the rare exception of the times you're saying you hate each other [which they had been scolded for just that afternoon], you make every parenting moment worthwhile."
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