Please...Pretty please. Pretty pretty please.

I've said prayers. We've brushed teeth. We've read stories. I've turned off every light to pretend that we live in a tomb.  It's dark outside. It's past the hour when you should be up. I'm done. I'm done. I'm done. I'm done. I'm done. 

I am done.  There are no reserves.  My last nerve packed up an hour ago. I'm tired. I'm no longer responsible for my actions, but you should know my motivations are sincere.  I want to stop.   

Twenty-four seven is not viable. 
Even God rested on Sunday. 

So stop already.  I mean really.  I mean, stop or I unplug the wi-fi and trip the breakers. My phone is still charged so I'll wake us up in time. 

Stop or I'll make you fold socks.
Stop or I'll decide it's time for me to control the television.
Stop or I'll put on music and dance to it.
Stop or I'll decide I really should educate my children more and make you listen to me.
Go to bed.   

Your bed is made. The lights are out.  I charge around the house, scaring them with the Mom's gone over the deep end scary voice, turning off the lights and telling them, the day is over, and I want silence.  Lo and behold, I get it. The house is dark. It's quiet. Everyone is in their room. 

I lie down.  I turn off the lights and drink my water.  I sigh with relief and victory!

Now...I can't sleep.