Lighter Side of Parenting

These bedbugs pack a punch!

I awoke the other morning with a dull ache in my nether region, the bit of geography typically hidden by a loin cloth or fig leaf - at least in story books. I've never seen either of these for sale at Walmart or Winners.
Being the pessimistic hypochondriac that I am (a deadly combination), I thought I pulled something or gave myself a hernia carrying the nine-year-old bag of cement to his bed the night before. Alas, he, too, appeared in our bed - and he was still there!
Our youngest daughter had already vacated her new part-time roost in our king-size bed, whisked away by my better half to early morning day care where there are no king-size beds to be found anywhere. She made an impression, not only upon the mattress, but yours truly.
Hernia? I think not! My senses of deductive reasoning, honed to a razor-sharp edge by years of covert parenting, pointed me in the direction of my kids - those who sneak into the bed in the wee hours to inflict pain and suffering upon those who raised them. The ball of a tiny foot; the boomerang-like elbow; the sledgehammer-like chin and even the blunt, rock-solid forehead become a tiny tot arsenal. When such weapons descend upon the aforementioned nether regions, anarchy reigns and devastation ensues.
Fathers reading this may have already winced once or twice, or may still be cringing at the thought. Mothers reading this, on the other hand, are likely smiling or even chuckling out loud, thinking the male parental units deserve such wrath. They may be right - they usually are!
But where's the nocturnal peace and serenity I was promised? How have I allowed to happen?
We have made beautiful, nicely appointed bedrooms for our offspring - nicer than the lumpy single bed and desk I had in my tiny room during my formative years. They are brightly coloured, filled with really cool accessories, mobiles, shelves, even action figures and portraits of Disney princesses.
The adult bedroom has none of these. Okay, I do have a few knick-knacks and some model airplanes flying about, but that's it, I swear! Our retreat, bright and airy with heavy wood furniture, is no place for children! That's why there's a lock on the door!
Maybe they like the Sony TV, DVD player or fact they can stretch out on the carpet with their colouring books, Barbies, Star Wars figures and Transformers. But can't they do that in their own rooms, surrounded by their own stuff? My son has a Wii. My eldest has an iPod and my youngest a cool looking vanity. What more could they want? What will it take to make them stay put?
As one of our physicians often told us, the kids won't have these habits by the time they're walking down the aisle. True enough. And if you think about it, what's the harm if they want a few more minutes of shut-eye, cuddled up next to their mom or dad? There are times I cherish these moments and never want them to end.
And then the alarm goes off, shattering my peace. And the days turn to weeks, turn to months. Birthdays come and go, hundreds of candles are lit and extinguished. Before you know it, you'll be feeling the empty space next to you, wondering what became of your little bedbugs!