Parents Vs Ninjas

Aftermath

I awoke in my own bed and wondered if my entire adventure with ninjas had just been a dream. But no, my entire body hurt way too much for it to have been imaginary. Besides, that would be a terrible way for this story to end.

Then I realized something disturbing. There was a ninja lying next to me in bed.

"AHHH!!!! GET OUT GET OUT GET OOOOOUT!!!!!!"

I didn't have any weapons so I started pounding the ninja with fists, elbows, knees and feet.

"What? Ow! Ow! Ow!" he cried before falling off the bed.

Wait, had that been Peter's voice?

"PETER!!"

"What? I'm up! I'm up!" The ninja got shakily to his feet. His ninja robes were rumpled and his mask has fallen off, revealing my doofus husband, Peter.

"Why are you wearing that?!?" I demanded.

Peter rubbed his head. "They said we could keep the robes and I thought they were cool. Besides, they're amazingly comfortable."

"Well at least don't wear a mask in bed! I nearly killed you!"

Peter pointed to his head. "I noticed."

I glared at him for a bit longer while he looked satisfyingly uncomfortable in his comfortable ninja clothes. Then I sighed. I never could stay mad at him for very long.

"You probably deserve it for getting me elected head of the unified ninja clans."

He gave me a crooked grin.

"Maybe, but you should have seen the look on your face! Besides, it'll work out. Most of the ninjas either respect you or are terrified of you. Or both. Great way to start your job as mom to all the ninjas in the world, right?"

I knew he meant it as a joke, but it made me sigh. No, ruling by fear was not how I wanted to start things off, but it would have to do. I'd make it work because I'm a mom, and that's what we do. We do our best to make things turn out alright and teach our kids something along the way, and most of the time we succeed. The rest of the time we cry, we laugh, and then we try again.

Working with the council, I began to make improvements among the ninjas even as I juggled being mom to all ninjas with being mom to my own kids. No, bath times did not magically become easier. I wish. But at least I didn't dread it quite so much.

I actually had an easier time convincing the ninjas that they should only accept contracts that did good in the world than I did in potty-training David (Don't ask. EVER.). But after a struggle, both changes took effect. The ninjas mainly accept contracts to rescue kidnapped people, stop child abuse, and end human trafficking, all funded by charity groups and governments, and David mostly keeps his underpants clean. Sure a ninja or two might accept some contracts to commit assassinations for hire, and David might forget to use the toilet at times, but we're working on it. It's the progress that counts.

Sometimes I even give myself the opportunity to go on rescue missions. It's every bit as fun as my first time fighting ninjas. I'm going to plead the fifth on any specific missions, for everyone's safety. After all the practice they've had putting kids to sleep, my ninjas are now stealthier than ever, and you don't want to tick them off. If you do, please do it on my day off. Someone else can clean up the mess.

The daycare has been an incredible success both for training and recruitment. The kids love how our ninjas wear their robes while babysitting and periodically burst out of the decorative shrubbery. Many kids and parents have begun to sign up for ninja training (we only tell them later that it's working at the daycare), and almost half of them graduate to full ninjahood. Our ranks have nearly doubled.

Single moms have proven to be an interesting scenario. On one hand they're some of the most effective ninjas we get, but on the other hand they tend to need the most support. We've begun offering scholarships especially for them and the results have been spectacular.

An even harder change was getting the ninjas to give up the use of nunchucks, at least as close-combat weapons. "But they're COOL!" half of them had cried, including some who didn't actually use nunchucks themselves. The rest quietly agreed with me, and after I promised to let them continue to use nunchucks in marketing, er, movies, the rest reluctantly got on board.

These days we're much more strategic about our field use of nunchucks. We throw them at enemies, and either we hit them with the nunchucks, or they hit themselves with the nunchucks. It's foolproof. Even the diehard nunchuck enthusiasts admit that it's fun to watch your enemies beat themselves up.

As for all that "The Silent But Deadly" stuff? It can wait. For now I'm going to focus on raising all my kids, including David, to be the best people they can be. I'll teach them the skills they need along the way, even while (mostly) succeeding at keeping the house from burning down.

Parenting: it's a dirty job, but somebody's gotta do it. I'm glad that one of those people is me.

THE END ...for now!