Parents of the year

The sun’s rays are absent during these early November mornings, making it difficult to manoeuvre in the dark. However the distinct smell of stale jelly candies and mini chocolate bars fill the morning air. I stumble around in the darkness and find myself tripping over something. It felt like a dog, but we don’t have one. Oh, wait. It’s Camden, our three-year-old, passed out on the floor, lying amidst a cornucopia of empty candy wrappers.