Witching Hour Chronicles

According to Wikipedia, the most famous non source on the internet,

With a modern literal meaning of “midnight,” the term witching hour refers to the time of day and night (12:00 a.m. or 12:00 p.m. is commonly speculated) when creatures such as witches, demons, and ghosts are thought to appear and to be at their most powerful and black magic to be most effective.

I don’t know about all that supernatural business, but I do know about the witching hour in our own house. It happens every weekday, without fail.

It’s the hour between 5pm and 6pm, Monday-Friday.

It’s the hour when you’re kind of done being a parent, your kids are kind of done being your kids, and your knight in shining husband is on his way home from work. (Allegedly.)

It’s when dinner is supposed to be cooking, the house is needing to be put back in order, and small children are at their utmost neediness.

It’s in this hour that all sanity is lost. All messes are made. All extended family members know not to attempt a phone conversation during.

I don’t know about witches, demons, and ghosts, but kids of the human variety are definitely at their “most powerful” during this time. There may even be a little black magic. It wouldn’t surprise me.

Maybe they’re playing in the pan you need to cook dinner.

(Uh, yeah, babe…that’s my excuse for ordering pizza. Again.)

Maybe they’re pulling every folded piece of clothing out of every drawer and laundry basket.

(The fact that said clean laundry hasn’t yet been put away is neither here nor there.)

Maybe they’re decorating for a “surprise party” by sticking post it notes on every surface.

Maybe they’re drive-by-grumping you in a bike helmet to beg for snacks even though dinner is right around the corner.

Maybe this.

There are so many possibilities for what could be happening during the witching hour.

The thing is, dinner may get cooked…or it might not. The house may get tidied…or it might not. But Daddy is on his way home to save us all, so Momma just. don’t. care.

Short of blood, death, or irreversible destruction, you kids just knock yourselves out.

And you mommas? We’re gonna make it. We’re going to make it past the witching hour and all the way to the hour after bedtime when we sneak like creepers back into our babies’ rooms and stare at them because we miss their faces and destructive behavior.

We’ve got this, you guys.

May today’s witching hour be ever in your favor.