My Mom loved to make furniture changes! If she wasn't moving furniture in the dining room then she had been in the living room. If not in the living room, then in the bedrooms but where ever it was we all knew that her active drive to move furniture happened somewhere in the house monthly, possibily weekly or probably even daily. The room changes were fun for us three girls. We liked to find the changes and usually found pleasure in her creativity throughout the home. However, our Dad must have felt differently because he often made comments about her furniture moves. Usually just simple comments like, "not again" but nothing that would make him want to stop her because he knew just how much she enjoyed these moving frenzies!
Yet, there was one night that I would like to share with you. It was a night when my Mom's household dream of a better arrangement went wrong! If I remember correctly, it was a normal evening. Mom was getting her three girls feed, dishes washed, homework done and bedtime preparations finished. Dad had probably gone back out to his garage after dinner as usual and came in late from working tirelessly on one of his customers messed up wrecked vehicles. When he came in at night he was usually very dirty so off he would go to the bathroom for his evening bathroom ritual. (This night was over 40 years ago so I can't recall everything that happened but for some reason we three girls must have been up later than Dad.) Anyway, off he went heading up the stairs to the 2nd floor bedroom, down the hall, through the door and dove for the bed. Now, Dad didn't stop to turn the light on so when he dove for the bed he must have been confident that it would be there but it wasn't! Apparently, Mom had secretly struck earlier in the day and had forgotten to warn him of her madness. So, instead of landing on the bed, his flight through the air sent him smack dab down hard onto the floor with a loud thud. First, hitting his shoulder on the sharp corner of the night stand then landing with the weight of his airborne body onto the hardwood floor.
It was a house shaking, blood curdling sound that sent the pitter patter, pitter patter of many tiny bare feet up the stairs, down the hallway and to the doorway where many voices intermittenly yelled out the following questions: "What happened?" "Dad are you alright?" What where you doing?" And I'm sure his response was something like "where is my bed!?!" At that point, we three girls smelled trouble and quickly high tailed it out of there leaving Mom to answer his questions which for sure had something to do with her "oh no, not again" famous furniture changes.
What happened between them that night we never knew but one thing is for sure: Mom never made another furniture change without giving fair warning and Dad made sure he never went to bed again without first turning on the light. And thus a memory to treasure forever!!
Hey, you two sisters of mine, how do you remember it???
