PAYBACK

This is my Grand daughter, Belle, going for a double knuckle deep nose penetration on my sleeping son - Glenn. That's one of the greatest things about kids, anything and everything can become a toy. Adults shop and purchase elaborate toys and supposed learning tools for their offspring and all the kid wants is a box, a piece of paper, lint, an empty bag or even a nose hole.

Kids naturally have no boundaries or filters. We are the ones that teach them "no." We place the stigma of wrong on them. I've watched youngsters unfettered by adult baggage eat bugs, pick up dog shit with their bare hands, throw spagetti o's at the wall and see the delight they have watching them stick to any surface. Hell, I still do that with spagetti. How else do you know if it's done?

One of my favorite pictures of my son I took after he ate his first Oreo. His face is blissful, almost like he reached nirvana, but he is encrusted with cookie. I swear when we changed him he even had Oreo crumbs on his butt.

But looking at this picture these weren't my first thoughts. My first thought was " Yes, payback time."

Usually it's the mother who says it but all parents think it - "I hope you have a kid just like you!" The dreaded centuries old mommy curse has worked each and every time.

Neither of our children were sleepers. Being our first we were novice parents, so our son put us through baby boot camp. We have a big old pine rocker that we've used over the years. When it was my turn in the middle of the night, I'd get his bottle, turn on ESPN and rock him. He would fight me and sleep like it was a WWF cage match. Many a morning I would wake up in the rocker with him draped over a chair arm or maybe a sleep on the floor hugging his bottle. I marvelled each time that the two of us survived. I was sure it was only a matter of time before there would be a casualty in this war.

One night in the early 1990's, my wife and I returned home after a late night out. I had , maybe, a couple scotches too many. I decided it was payback time for all those late baby nights! Glenn was in maybe 8th or 9th grade. His current goal was to be Kurt Cobain incarnate - grunge was king. This should give you both a visual and attitudinal image.

While my wife went upstairs to bed, I went in to his room and woke him up. You can imagine his reaction, "What the hell you doing dad?"

I told him that I was wide awake and I wanted him to come in the living room and we'd eat, rock and watch ESPN like old times. He just gave me that look that only a teenager can give and rolled over.

Now this is what our parnets had told us to do all along. Stay in bed and just ignore them. I think he got me again by going back to sleep. That's when I mommy cursed the smart ass!

And guess what? It worked again! Now he's got one just like him.