Parenting Humor
Your Teen's Bedroom

No Way! The lights are out again? This time I know I will be stumbling in the dark because we used up the last batteries on last night's storm. It was too yucky out today to go buy some more. Why do I need the lights on? Oh yeah, because my daughter "reminded" me of her class party tomorrow 2 minutes before her bedtime. Quite happily telling me she volunteered my homemade cupcakes everyone loves. I'm sure it's really that everyone just loves that someone else is making them. Anyway the decision has to be made: go through the maze of toys, clothes etc. in my daughter's room to get to the breaker or go out in the dawn's miserable cold drizzle to buy some 'homemade' cupcakes? I opt for the bedroom. I have been through this with a flashlight, how much worse can it be? I leave the kitchen, gently find my way through the living room. The kids just cleaned it so I only trip twice, once due to my husbands work boots. After a moments hesitation I put them on. They're too big and clunky, but I hate hurting my toes. Down the hall, so far so good. Daughters room. Door is closed; posted warning signs are just a light blur in the darkness. Now to think this through. There's the writing table by the door, the large bunk bed is against one wall and a 4 foot dresser is on the other, above this is our breaker box. I brace myself against the writing table and edge my way over to her bed. Things crackle, crunch and break. I know I'm going to be angry when I find that $50 play station game in pieces. I get to the bed, placing my foot on the bottom edge of the bed I grab onto the top edge and swing over. Holding tightly I shimmy my way to the other end of her bed, get to her night stand and slid my butt on top of it, knocking off a ton of make-up. I stand up on it, thank goodness for heavy oak furniture, and reach out to her dresser, which is three feet away. Finding the box on the wall is a easier task now that the mound of clothes have joined their brothers on the floor. Fumbling with the latch on the breaker box I get it open and begin flipping switches. Just as the hallway light comes on and fills her room, my daughter turns over studies my precarious hold above her landmine filled room and asks me why I get to climb on the furniture.