Mysterious Affliction

This morning I awoke stiff and achy as if I had been beaten. Was I in a sleepwalking street fight? Am I a nuftegenarian (I have no clue if that is a real word but it sure sounds like a Mighty Wind way to say ninety year old)? Did I have one of those vivid dreams about falling out of the ugly tree and hitting every branch on the way down? No... none of these explanations proved true. Our bed is not wrought of iron and we don't fistfight if things aren't right (is that a George Jones song?). So what is the source of my pain? Oh, yeah, I'm waking up with a 3 year old steamroller next to me. I love my girls. I love them beyond description. I love the way they climb into bed in the middle of the night whining, "Daaaaaady" or "Mooooommy". I'm not so thrilled with being pummeled by someone whose sleeping ambition is to smother me. One day our bed will be devoid of children. That day will signal that they are growing up or that we're not wimps. Until then, Jenny and I will enjoy snuggling with each other when we can(-;