It is with much sadness (but much more laughter!) that I announce the passage of Mark and Melissa's four-poster, duvet-covered, thick-mattressed lovely respite. Their first-ever gorgeous, plush, non-hand-me-down bed has now joined the rest of the heavenly angel, once-saw-intimacy, twilight "homes" for smitten married people without children high up in the sky.
Mark and Melissa would like to welcome, however, their lovely respite's replacement--its ugly twin sister: the much-crunched-duvet-due-to-jumping, now-fits-four, land for "dark eyes," horizontal utility vehicle (HUV) with blue sheets.
Help us in fondly remembering its beautiful, once-crisp-and-lovely young twin today...Rest in Peace, oh sweet one.
I wish I could say that I was alone in losing "ownership" of my favorite place in the entire house, but in all honesty, this post was driven by a recent email from a friend of mine that just said it all.
Picture this: Being 8 months pregnant on semi-bed rest. Laying on the one thing that brings you peace and joy--and relaxation--and hearing this: "Toooot, tooooot!!!!! Chugga, chugga, chugga, chugga...tooot, tooot!! [CRASSSSHHHHHH.] Daddddyyyyy!!!" Need I say more? Yes, my poor friend's 2-year-old son had decided to use the perimeter of her bed as a train track for his wind-up-Thomas (full disclosure: we gave it to him...so sorry!). And as she put it: the train would go around and around until it took a wild turn and careened into one of the many things shoved under the bed...which then resulted in daddy (other former resident of lovely respite) coming into the room for a serious "Search and Rescue" mission.
Yep, sounds so familiar. Add to this picture two large, mouthy dogs who also reside in said bedroom at night and you've got our house.
As I lied in bed this morning and grinned from ear to ear that it was 7:30 and the boys were still sleeping, I lamented the days when we rolled over in quiet happiness after a long night of uninterrupted sleep. Then again, I can't help but laugh thinking about a story another friend shared with me the other day that proves our lovely respites are not necessarily "all that" even without kids...
Every time she and her husband retired to their king bed for intimate moments, their 8-pound pomeranian was kicked out of their bed. Needless to say, their then-child wasn't so thrilled with this and proceeded to poop in small piles all around the bed until they were "finished" and she was allowed back up on the bed.
Just imagine THAT experience...I think I'd pick the Thomas the Train search and rescue.
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