That poor Justice of the Peace who was standing there with his little booklet in his hand attempting to get me and Mr. B married all those years ago did not speak any form of Red Neck. And I was barely learning the language that Mr. B had grown up with all those years. He was raised in
and me? I was a Texas Rebel complete with mini skirts and mile high hair. The
JP did the best he could to understand me and finally gave up and pronounced us
man and wife and Mr. B could kiss the bride. Pennsylvania
We chased off on a two day honeymoon in a hotel with a full size bed. It was plenty big because we were in love. For the next thirty years we had a full-sized, four-poster bed. We raised kids who were afraid of thunder and crawled in with us. We had cats that slept with us in that bed and a
that claimed a portion of the foot of the bed most every night and it wasn’t
too small. Chihuahua
Then one night Mr. B put one arm under me, one over me and hugged up right close to my back and snored. No rephrase that. He SNORED!!! In my half sleep I thought a freight train had gotten loose from the tracks over west of town and was plowing right through the bed between us.
Maybe it was karma telling me to get a bigger bed to give a freight train more room should that ever happen again. Hey, superstition is ingrained into my DNA so deep that a vinegar bath can’t erase it so we bought a queen-sized bed…just in case! The snoring did not happen again and everyone was happy.
For about fifteen years.
It must have been those five (or maybe ten…okay, okay, the fifteen extra pounds I’d gained…don’t look at me like that…I’m not admitting one more than fifteen) pounds I put on in those years, because after sleeping in king-sized beds in hotels, that queen sized one was getting pretty small. And the snoring had fired up again which told me karma was saying to get a bigger bed. It was back to the furniture store to get a king-sized one with memory foam.
It would be/was/is fantastic. Right up until we were traveling, without reservations because I like to go where the wind takes us, and the only hotel room available in the whole town had two full sized beds in it.
No problem. We started out that way and we could survive one night! We crawled into bed and holy smoke! I couldn’t have cussed a cat without getting a hair in my mouth. When I rolled over, Mr. B’s face was so close that I had to refocus my eyes to keep from seeing two of him. And he SNORED! I love the man but I did not vow to love two of him when I was standing there in front of that JP and my marriage vows said nothing about the size of the bed in which he had free reign with that snoring business.
I was so glad to get home to my own big old, wallowing sized bed, that I vowed to never go anywhere without reservations again. How in the world were we ever comfortable in that tiny bed with kids, cats and the
sleeping with us? Oh, that reminds me of a motel story where we didn’t have
reservations… I’ll post that one tomorrow. Right now let's break out the sweet tea! Chihuahua