Page 21 of Sleeper: The Palisades Edition
“Why does she have to go to bed so early?” Lucky asks.
“It’s not early where she is, remember?”
“But why is it different for her?”
I bet Willa can explain time zones to a five-year-old. “That’s a really good question, buddy. There’s these things called ‘time zones,’ and we’ll have to look them up later. Summer—brush your teeth.”
“Why?”
“Because you didn’t brush them this morning.”
“But I’ll have to brush them again before bed!”
“Get to the bathroom now. We can’t Skype your mom until you have clean teeth.”
She makes a cartoonyharrumphsound, and I follow her as she stomps to the guest bathroom. “I. Will. Only. Brush. My. Teeth. If. You. Sing to meeeeee!”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Yes! From a musical!”
“Nope.”
I squeeze some toothpaste onto a little pink toothbrush and hold it out to her after she stands up on the step stool, but she just crosses her arms in front of her chest and shakes her head.
“Brush your teeth.”
“Sing to me!”
“Ask me to do anything else—I don’t like tosing.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not. I’m not good at it.”
“Why not?”
“Because nobody’s perfect. I can’t be a good comedy actor, have great hair, a six-pack,andsing and dance. I’m not Zac Efron.”
“Can Uncle Zac come over?”
“No. Brush your teeth, or I will brush them for you.”
Her lips disappear inside her stubborn, adorable face. She looks like an angry Muppet.
“Summer. We all have to brush our teeth at least twice a day. Come on.”
She shakes her head slowly, maintaining eye contact with me, reminding me who’s boss.
I am so fucking proud of her for knowing what she wants and being so strong-willed, but I also want to rip this sink from the wall.
I open up her hand and place the toothbrush in it. “I…”
Her face lights up, and she lifts the toothbrush to her mouth, which is still closed.
“I am the very model of a modern Major General.”
She smiles, and I maneuver the toothbrush so it’s touching her teeth.
