When I was in 5th or 6th grade (I think), my dad still read to my brother and me every night, but my mom would come to tuck me in too. I never wanted her to leave. Somehow I convinced her to sit with me for a while, scratching my back and telling me about her day. I don't remember anything she said being particularly fascinating, but I remember feeling so lucky to get those moments with her alone. I know she must have been tired after a day of teaching kindergarten, and I doubt she wanted to recount the details to her preteen. I'm glad she made the sacrifice.
Years later when I was a senior in high school and battling through my first round of a persistent depression, I started asking my mom late(ish) at night on school nights if we could go out to Starbucks. I think at first I just wanted a free raspberry cappuccino. I could have driven there alone, after all. Why did she fall for my trick? I don't know, but I'm glad she did. Those are some of my strongest memories of that season-- sitting with my mom drinking coffee late on a school night. It was a new feeling having my mom be my friend. She gave me her undivided attention for half an hour, and I wouldn't have traded it for the world.
Wish we could go out for raspberry cappuccinos tonight and she could tuck me in and tell me about her day. Love you, Mom.