Last night, I told the kids it was bedtime. Like I always do.
Brush teeth, get your jammies on, pick a book. The usual drill.
Then I heard giggling. The kind that makes you stop whatever you’re doing and smile. I looked out the window and there they were—in the backyard, barefoot, chasing fireflies.
My first instinct? Tell them to come inside. It was already late. We were off schedule. Pajamas were gonna get dirty. Bugs, mud, all the chaos.
But I didn’t say anything.
I sat down on the porch. And I watched them.
They were so happy. Just running around in the grass, trying to catch those little glowing dots like it was the most magical thing in the world.
And honestly? It was kind of magical.
At one point, my son came over, holding his hands together like a tiny treasure box.
“I caught one,” he whispered. “But I’m gonna let it go. I think it likes flying better.”
And just like that, I felt something shift.
I’ve been so caught up lately—in routines, in making sure everything’s “on time,” in getting it all right. But watching them out there, I realized… not everything needs to be so structured. Not every night has to go exactly according to plan.
Sometimes the best moments are the messy, unexpected ones.
So we stayed out.
Way past bedtime.
Barefoot, covered in bug bites and joy.
And you know what?
They still went to sleep.
They still woke up happy.
But I went to bed different.
Because chasing fireflies reminded me that childhood is short. And sometimes, it’s okay to pause the schedule and just live in the moment.
Let them stay up. Let them run wild. Let the laundry wait.
These are the nights we’ll all remember.
Credit – original owner ( respect 🫡)
Follow us – Very Interesting