It is 8:47 on a Tuesday and you have run out of words. Your kid is in pajamas, the lamp is on, and the bedtime conversation has nowhere left to go.
You have already done the bath, the teeth, the second sip of water. You have tried the parenting course, the Becky Kennedy app, the picture books in the donate bin. They were fine. They were forgettable. None of them gave you anything to talk about the next morning. The bedtime slot stops being a thing you dread the night the book hands you a real conversation. Open it to one chapter. Read it aloud. Let the cartoon panel land. Ask one plain question. Five minutes. The kid will quote it back to you in the car the next afternoon.


