Bedtime rituals. You sit, small and sleepy, swathed in footie pajamas, wrapped in Daddy's arms on the nursery floor. Together we sing. And tonight, as so often, I am filled with the strange thought that my mother and father, young and newly baptized into parenthood, once performed a similar ritual each night with a small and sleepy, pajama-clad me.

- February 2, 2015

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