My stunt post today was going to be “write a newsletter about evening rituals until, inevitably, Kina calls out from her bedroom ritualistically demanding specific dimnesses for both the living room and the kitchen, and then say ha ha see she did it just now” except that she beat me to the punch, exactly as I opened up the editor to start typing. She also asked me if it’s gonna rain, which it is not, and even if it were, would not contribute meaningfully to her sleep or the lack thereof.
This is what counts for ritual here.
dad