This evening, the youngest girlies were traipse artist, pushing the mattress to its limits. Their leaps amazed the crowd, as they fell mesmerized by their death-defying routines.
As girlie #5 catapulted towards the ceiling, a voice screamed, “are you jumping on the couch?” “No,” she said, knowing this was a partial truth. For it wasn’t the couch but the bed. She wouldn’t volunteer the information. Big sister #2 remarked, “Uh huh! Told you Y’all were going to get caught!”, as sister #4 quietly sat, not to admit involvement in the routine.
I said to mommy, as the door closed, “should we take away the joys of jumping on the bed from the kids?” Knowing that all who were privileged to experience a mattress in the home had used its power to bring to life fantasy after fantasy.
Our mattress as children caught our final tumble in the Olympics as well as the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl. It was the backdrop our attempts to fly like Superman and caught the Suplex and DDT before our dolls heard the three count of the referee and gave us the championship belt!
“No”, mommy replied. “We shouldn’t. But, we have to do our jobs! We’re parents and its part of the gig.”
I replied, “Your right! Besides, half of the fun of jumping is knowing that mom and dad said not too! The danger adds to the fun!” I finished.
“You’re right” mommy said, “we’re just adding to the fun.” This said, knowing that the fun of the jump always overruled the consequences. As we smiled, we knew the jumping would continue. Maybe not today, but surely tomorrow.
The mattress might be one of the greater imagination supporters ever! Maybe we should teach mattress safety as opposed to restricting the leaps?
Until then, “are you jumping on the bed again? Don’t make me come up there.”