Excitedly, she handed me a book entitled Five Little Monkeys to read out loud. Our three-year-old granddaughter then crawled into my lap.

As I started reading, I realized I had never seen in print this familiar childhood tune about the monkeys who fell out of bed. While I already knew the words from memory, I enjoyed the fun illustrations.

Suddenly, the veteran mom of five little monkeys and seventeen little grand monkeys awoke inside of me. I realized how differently young me would have handled this breach of bedtime behavior. So, I made a mental note to pen something more realistic than Mommy Monkey passively scratching her head and repeatedly calling the doctor.

As the saying goes, it’s all fun and games until somebody gets hurt. Can I mention boys in particular? Why jump on the bed when one can climb up the headboard and do a half-gainer on top of your sisters?

Lock me up if I allowed my five little monkeys to sleep together unsupervised.  

UGH!

I’m not implying that my collection of monkeys was worse than most. However, like their mother, they had a ridiculous amount of energy.

‘It’s time for bed,” yelled Mom to her monkeys upstairs. But they were busy playing without a care.

Five little monkeys jumped on the bed. From below, Daddy raised his head, “What the heck are you doing up there?” Then he returned to his show and settled into his chair.

Mommy looked at Daddy and shook her head, her eyes fixated intently, her displeasure grew as at him she stared. Daddy tried not to notice, breathing an exasperated sigh and, in mock ignorance, bade, “What? Why?”

He knew “what” in his gut, flipping in another pistachio nut.

“Hey!” he shouted into thin air, but Mom wasn’t having it as she headed up there. Stomp, stomp, stomp, went her feet up the stairs; surprisingly, those distracted monkeys were unaware. The door flew open, and those monkeys knew it was late, the time had come to meet their fate.

Five little monkeys jumped on the bed. One fell off and bumped his head. Momma called to Daddy, and Daddy said, “What did I tell you about jumping on the bed?”

“Everyone in their own beds now,” shouted Mommy in a voice sounding mad. Five little monkeys walked away sad. Climbing in their beds they looked at Dad. “That’s right,” said Dad with feigned vexation as he winked at each monkey and said, “Be good or no vacation.”

“It’s bedtime, my loves; this didn’t have to be. Your brother has a bump on his head as big as a tree.”

“Naughty little monkeys, next time, listen,” Mommy stated with serious intention. “We can’t afford five ER bills because you didn’t pay attention.”

The monkeys all snickered and quickly fell asleep. Mommy bent over and kissed their cheeks.

She and Daddy knelt by their beds, prayed to Jesus, and blessed their heads. Keep them safe and always Yours, from sea to sea and shore to shore.

Amen.

Our crazy monkeys grew up fast. They tested our resolve, fortified our unity, and grew our faith a thousand percent. There’s nothing like your monkeys’ antics to keep you on your knees.

Who could have guessed what God was doing in all the mess, noise, and love?

Now, they are mommy, and daddy monkeys themselves and still make us smile. We thank God for each one, their spouse, and baby monkeys too. It is a blessing and honor to be their parents for a moment in time as we all learned to trust, hope, and turn to God in every trial.

Lent has begun; don’t ever let a day go by without praying for your little monkeys and theirs. Take time to connect and laugh. Those days of parenting quickly pass. Ask for grace for our country, an outpouring of the Holy Spirit on our world, and abundant peace and love.

Happy Mardi Gras!