You don't know how often I come out of my bedroom late at night (I'm an early-to-bed kinda girl) to see The Husband in the kitchen with one of our kids. They are usually sitting around the table, having an omelet or sharing some chocolate milk, making a sandwich, or sneaking some cookies. The kids are happy to stay up after they have been sent to bed, and The Husband is happy to have someone to talk to (since I'm a sleepyhead).
The Husband uses the time to teach the kids about different things: Life lessons, bullying, singing, the gospel, happiness, or they just talk about what's going on in their life at the moment. The kids love the one-on-one time they get with their daddy (it's always just one child that sneaks up to hang out after hours with dad) and he really finds the time to be special as well. Afterall, he didn't grow up with a dad, and so he uses every excuse he can to be with them and teach them and enjoy the little people they are.
These dates are usually reserved for the big kids, but one night I found Kimble, sitting on the countertop, sharing a sandwich with his daddy. He was so happy. On nights like these, which occur once every few weeks, I go back to bed, secure in the knowledge that I married a very good man.