Those Parents
"Ohmydog, we've become those parents..." The words left his lips as he sat into a soft couch cushion and the cushion came back at him with a song. He reached behind his back and pulled out a toy that had since been lost in couch purgatory. The toy was still wailing a chipper lullaby and glowing with each beat. Shaped like a butterfly, he stared for a moment wondering how to turn it off. But there wasn't an off button, so we sat together momentarily, waiting for the song to end, all-the-while- smiling sheepishly at the notion that we were "those parents" The cleaning never ends. I always knew that, but once you have a kid, it is like Groundhog Day, everyday, as you walk around in circles picking up scattered toys and playthings. And every few steps you will smack into something and it will come back in harmony. Lights will flash as I curse quietly at the throbing pain in my toe that has just stepped on an oddly-shaped rattle. Not moments ago, in f...