The bewitching hour is anything but quiet. Every one of us seems to have exposed nerves. We're all overly sensitive and edgy, trying to wind down from our respective days. Each of us is tired and every single action is magnified. There is whining. A lot of whining.
As it happens, everyone is also famished my 6 PM. Everyone wants to eat, NOW. There is no patience to wait for meal preparation. There is no interest in trying new things. I bet on any given night I'll hear the words, "I don't like that!" about a dozen times.
Yet somehow, we make it through the bewitching hour. Everyone eats, more or less... eventually. Everyone settles down and into the nightly routine of clean-up and bed-time rituals. That part of the day is lovely. The little people seem to soften and become pliable. They become easy-going and dare I say compliant. That softening process is enjoyable to watch unfold.
Enjoyable, perhaps, because we're stronger and wiser from living through that bewitching hour... as opposed to going to live amongst the wild flowers and the little tree on the prairie.
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