Grace
Most nights, Harry Styles sleeps around a little before he ends up in my bedroom. Ha, I know, right?
Bella winds down first, so he’ll nap with her and her stuffed animals. He’ll move to Ian’s room next and doze while my son goes through his nightly routine. Then, eventually, he slinks into my room, like, Okay, now you.
But tonight, I’m not in my bedroom, and Ian and Bella are at my parents’ house.
My mom and dad take them for Friday sleepovers every few months to “give me a break,” which is nice of them, I guess.
I never know what to do with myself when they’re gone, though, which is why Harry Styles and I are on the couch flipping through TV channels.
“T-G-I-F,” I tell him, “right?”
Sports is on. I stop at some ’90s sitcoms and a Hallmark thing. Then I stumble onto Edward Scissorhands and sit up. I haven’t seen it in years, but I think it’s just starting. Johnny Depp is in a castle, and he looks so young.
Is Edward Scissorhands a holiday movie? I vaguely remember a Christmas scene—snow, maybe? The raven Henry gave me is sitting next to the TV in a spare change dish because I forgot to take it to Edgar Allan’s. From here it looks like it’s watching the movie, too.
Well, whatever. If Bruce Willis can shoot a bunch of people in a holiday movie, surely Johnny Depp can have scissors for hands.