By Lorry Myers
For whatever reason, we don’t get away from home very often. So we decided to visit my daughters who, at the time, were roommates in a small town in Kansas. My husband especially loved that our two girls lived together because that meant we could go one place and see two people and his “Daddy-Do” list satisfies them both.
He really likes that part.
The down side to these visits is someone has to forfeit their sleeping comfort for us. On this trip it was Mariah whose bed is hard to get in and out because one side is up against the wall. Her room is small and has an east facing window so my industrious daughter nailed up a room darkening curtain to ensure the sun never makes it in.
The nails, her father thought, were a little unnecessary.
When we finally went to bed that night, I put my glasses on the dresser since there is no bed side table and climbed in first. Randy followed me, turning out the light, sitting his glasses down and settling in beside me. I was a little disoriented at first because the room was so dark I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I told my husband that we needed to sleep with the door open so some light would filter in. That way, if we needed to, we could see.
“See what?” he yawned, already half asleep.
Within minutes, Randy was snoring away while I tossed and turned and tried not to look at the darkness all around me. Finally, I fell asleep only to waken hours later when Randy climbed out of bed to go to the bathroom. The room was black as ink and I could hear my husband fumbling around the room. I laid in the darkness and listened as he tripped over his suitcase finally getting the bedroom door open. Then, I heard him run into the doorframe, smack into the wall and say colorful words like he thought no one could hear. Suddenly he turned around and stumbled back into the room like a drunk man.
For the complete column, see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard.