One thing that most parents get to do is decorate the room of their child. For us this was more of a rite of passage than a necessary task or job.
It was something we wanted to do, looked forward to, and like the baptism of a baby felt a certain gravitas attached to it. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it was our reward for a long four years of infertility and a strenuous adoption process.
With this in mind, you will understand why we set about the task with the fervour of an interior design company, and the precision of a finely tuned military operation.
My wife was in her element and she set about the job by investing herself in preparing the perfect room. As such, the obligatory trip to IKEA was on the cards.
With a spring in our step, we trotted off; confident the Scandinavian behemoths of flat pack goods would furnish our son’s new bedroom.
A bad IKEA
Unfortunately IKEA was somewhat of a bust. Usually a fruitful exercise, this particular trip to IKEA proved more tedious and frustrating culminating in severe confusion and a cut on my hand deeper than the Mariana Trench.
With the recent Horsemeat scandal, I couldn’t even eat the meatballs.
We left with our tails between our legs, and having suffered a hefty blow to morale, I was somewhat surprised to see that we still managed to spend a fair bit of cash. I think it is a physical impossibility to scale a six story shop and come away empty handed.
Over the next day or so with our enthusiasm dampened but not totally blighted, we perused the usual catalogues of Next and Littlewoods, both of which were decent but uninspiring.
Inspiration from the beep game
With our motivation waning at considerable speed, I had all but lost interest until my wife woke me up by shoving the IPad in my face. Through jaded and half open eyes I found myself browsing the Dunelm Mill website.
What is going on?
I asked, still trying to work out if this was part of my dream.
I Googled ‘beep beep’ and this is what I got.
Came the enigmatic answer.
I should explain. The beep game is simple and has only one rule – press someone’s nose and say beep. For anyone over the age of twenty months, it is tiresome at best, but for the wee man – it is to him, what my Xbox is to me.
With my eyelids slowly peeling themselves open and my thoughts hurriedly gathering themselves I started to make sense of what my wife was doing.
There was a whole range of items from bed sheets and curtains to a toy box and car shaped cushion. Bright colours and decent quality – my wife’s ingenuity had paved the way for our enthusiasm, and once again we were looking forward to this ‘parent’s rite of passage’.
Once we had bought all of the goodies, we put them in the little man’s room and quickly agreed that a paint job was needed.
We matched two colours from the beep beep set and got to work.
Over the Easter weekend our spare room has been transformed to the future bedroom of our son. Our rite of passage has been experienced and my wife and I can add another parenting first onto our list.
Our dream of having children is little more than a host of tiny fantasies of the most simple of aspects of daily life, as well as the slightly bigger wishes like holidays and Christmas. One facet of our dream was to be able to decorate a room for a child in a manner that reflected our love for them.
To you beep beep may just be onomatopoeia
To us, it is much, much more.