Startled out of her slump against the doorframe, Compton reached to turn the light back on. As soon as the bathroom lit back up, Rose protested.

“Turn it back out, Mommy!”

“But then you’ll be in the dark, sweetie.”

“Mommy, listen. I heard the enviramen is hurting. By too much lights.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Wow in da World.” Wow in the World was an NPR science podcast. The children were addicted, especially Rose, who suffered from a crippling crush on someone on the show named Guy Raz.

“So we should be doing everything in da dark,” concluded Rose.

Okay. It was bedtime. This could work.

“Are nightlights okay?” Compton asked, plucking Baby Walter from the bath and drying all his many fat folds in the light of the hallway. She slapped a clean diaper on him and tickled his tummy, at which point, with an expression of intense concentration, he pooped. She removed the new diaper, cleaned him up, and replaced it. Chortling with delight, he reached up and twisted her nose.

She set him down and handed him his favorite thing in the world, the television remote. He immediately placed it to his ear and made little hooting sounds. This remote was actually a decoy that no longer worked on the television, but it served its purpose: distracting Baby Walter long enough for her to get Rose out of the bath. She rubbed Rose’s golden ringlets dry and instructed her to go find her big girl underwear.

Now for Lawrence.

“I’ll be staying up late tonight,” he informed her, as she beckoned at him to exit the bathroom. “So I’ll sit right here for now.”

“Nope,” she said, forcing a cheerful tone into her voice. She lifted Lawrence from the bathroom doorway. He went prone as soon as she picked him up, so she carried him down the hall facedown, arms out and behind him, like Superman.

“Make-a-U-turn-when-safe-to-do-so,” squawked Lawrence in a robotic voice Compton recognized as belonging to the GPS lady from their car. “Make-a-U-turn.”

They reached the door of the boys’ room. Lawrence tried another tact. “This is bullying,” he shouted. “You can’t attack a minor.”

“How about you read to Rose?” suggested Compton. “Maybe some Ivy and Bean?”

“Yes, okay,” said Lawrence. “I’ll get the book.” He loved being the one to read the bedtime story. It took an agonizing amount of time for him to get through a chapter, though, partly because he had to sound out some of the words but mainly because he often stopped to offer commentary on the actions of the characters.