Saturday, June 23, 2012

Bed Time Story

I suppose that most of you don’t have any problem going to bed. You pull back the covers. Climb into bed. And then pull the covers over you. Normally, neither do I, have trouble climbing into bed, that is. But last night it was rather warm. So I had the window open and the ceiling fan running, and I decided to just lay on top of the covers while I read before going to sleep.

I have one of those electronic reading devices. I won’t mention its brand because these corporations get too much advertising most of the time anyway, at least in my opinion. So I just lay on top of the covers in my pajamas which my wife will tell you I don’t wear which is why I just call my underwear “pajamas.” After a while, I got sleepy, and fell asleep uncovered.

Later that night I awoke. It had cooled off outside, and I was now chilled and ready to get under the covers. Rather than get out of bed, pull back the covers, climb back into the bed, and then pull the covers over me, I tried an alternative method.

I rolled all the way over to one side, at least until I ran into the still body of my wife. That is, she’s still my wife, and she wasn’t moving. That’s how she likes to sleep, and I’ve learned not to argue with her. Especially when she is asleep.

Then I rolled the covers over, but just until they met my body. They were at sort of a forty-five degree angle to the head of the bed, although it was dark so I can’t be sure of exactly what angle they were at – geometrically speaking.

After that I rolled, over the roll of covers, arriving on the uncovered side of the bed, which was my intention. There still wasn’t room for all of my body, but I was able to get my legs into the covers sort of like putting a letter into an envelope. From that position, I was able to maneuver the rest of the covers over me, and quickly fell back asleep.

This morning, I mentioned this to my cousin who lives in the basement. I rent him and twelve members of Cirque de Solei an illegal apartment in the basement. It’s a small room, so they sleep in a chest of drawers. Not only does that solve the problem of no space for a bed, but, if one of them snores, they just close his drawer.

Now these renters are trampoline performers. We don’t have a trampoline here for them to practice on, so they just jump on the bed. The ceilings are rather low in the basement, so I let them use my bed since we have cathedral ceilings. They do have to watch out for the ceiling fan.

There used to be thirteen of them before the terrible accident, but I don’t really want to talk about that. Besides, I’m sure you read about it. It was in all the papers. The ceiling fan wobbles a little bit now, but otherwise things have returned to normal.

Anyway, they decided that would be a good stunt to add to their act. They would all start bouncing together and then, while in the air, they would reach down and pull back the covers. I’m sure you can figure out the rest.

They practiced it for a while, and I think they got the hang of it. I may try that the next time I am in a similar predicament.

Now I had better stop writing because it is almost time for breakfast. I don’t want to be late, because we don’t have enough chairs at the table for everyone, and the last person has to stand through breakfast. I used to fool them by playing the Star Spangled Banner on my harmonica, and when they stood up, I’d grab an open chair.

But then someone put soap in my harmonica, and all I can play is “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles,” a song I don’t really know how to play anyway. So I’ll close now, as I can smell the toast burning in the toaster, so breakfast must nearly be ready.

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