Tuesday, June 12, 2012

In the interest of full disclosure...

I suppose I must tell you that in the wee, small hours of the morning a couple of nights ago, as Sunday slowly turned into Monday, I did something I haven’t done since I was about four years old.

I did not wet the bed. I did that until I was ten.

No, it was something else entirely.

It did involve the bed, though.

Before your naughty mind goes off in a salacious direction, I will tell you straightway.

I fell out of bed.

Rolled right off the edge.

Ker-thump.

The dog did walk over (rather nonchalantly, I thought) to see what had happened.

I’m fine. Nothing was bruised but my ego. I picked myself up, put myself back into bed, and went back to sleep.

Since then, though, I have begun looking at life a little differently.

I have to face it, I am getting old.

I wonder what other surprises await me in the time I have left.

There’s nothing like something that goes bump in the night, especially when it’s you, to give a person a new perspective.

If you’re having problems of your own in the wee, small hours of the morning, maybe a little Frank Sinatra (3:02) or a little Julie London (2:59) or even a time of quiet retrospection (4:27) will help.

Then again, maybe not.

9 comments:

Shooting Parrots said...

Falling out of bed is quite common and often involves dreaming of practicing the high jump, but using the old-fashioned scissors technique. Scientists estimate that this phenomenon will fade over the next 50 years or so as the pre-Fosbury Flop generation dwindles.

It is likely to be replaced by more concussion injuries that result from backward flips against the headboard when dreaming of the Fosbury Flop.

rhymeswithplague said...

Ian, I remember the scissors technique, but only as a spectator. As far as I can recall, I have never dreamed of practicing the high jump, Fosbury Flop or otherwise.

But I will take your information under advisement.

Snowbrush said...

I'm glad you had the lower bunk! I know what you mean about dogs standing around with but slight interest when one is flat on the floor and maybe in pain at that. I had the experience in a parking lot one night when I tripped over a curb and lay on the asphalt with the breath knocked out of me. Both dogs smelled me briefly after which they waited patiently for me to get up and resume our walk.

Just think of it, you could have been killed, and if you had been, when people asked one another whatever happened to you, they would be told that you died when you fell out of bed. The questioner would then stifle his or her laughter and possibly reflect that they always did suspect you of having a drinking problem.

Yorkshire Pudding said...

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125 Riverstone Terrace
Canton, GA 30114

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Putz said...

i wet the bed untiol i was 12

MikeSnow said...

"I have to face it, I am getting old."
I would never have guessed it. What a delightful blog! It's addictive.
As for getting older, I hadn't noticed myself so much until we went to my son's wedding and stayed in a motel with all these mirrors. Ugh, who is that guy?
I landed here from your good comments on Internet Monk.

rhymeswithplague said...

Everyone, without exception your comments made me laugh.

That is a good thing.

rhymeswithplague said...

P.S. - Welcome to the blog, MikeSnow! Three cheers for my newest reader!

Hip, hip, ___________!
Hip, hip, ___________!
Hip, hip, ___________!

This is a fill-in-the-blank test.

Snowbrush said...

"Welcome to the blog, MikeSnow! "

You need to check with your lawyer. Your contract with me precludes you accepting other followers with either the word snow in their names or the four letters of the word snow.