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Sunday, November 11, 2012

Second Floor

I was looking out the window of my bedroom, on the second story of our house, and I was flooded with nostalgic memories.

I just cannot see a second story window and not think of my husband and our courtship.  I was in college by the time we met and my dad had built me an apartment in the basement.  Lee would come to visit and my parents would set him up on the second floor in my old bedroom, just across the hall from them. This situation made Lee very, very nervous. Not one to offer false consolation, I assured him that he should be quite nervous. I told Lee not only was my father a terribly light sleeper, but that he became irrationally angry when half asleep.  I also told Lee that the slightest noise could set my father's sleep walking off - floorboards creaking, even toilets flushing.

Then I wished him goodnight and told him to sleep well.

The next morning my future husband looked haggard. When we got a moment alone I asked him how he slept. 

"Not good.  Not good at all," he said, then proceeded to fill me in on his night time dilemma. Apparently, he had needed to shake the proverbial dew off the lily in the wee hours of the night, but was panicked at the thought of waking my dear old daddy.  He tossed and turned attempting to get comfortable and ignore his throbbing bladder. Finally, when he felt the urine might just start spouting from his ears, he made use of the window.

No, I am not kidding.

After laughing hysterically for thirty minutes, I confessed that I was exaggerating about my dad.  Lee did not laugh.

Lee went home, and I immediately told my parents of Lee's nocturnal latrine.  They scolded me for being a dirty, rotten, meanie-pants girlfriend. Then they laughed for the next two days.

The next time my man came for a visit my parents did not let on that they knew. I assured him that Dad would absolutely not wake up even if the toilet flushed. Lee did use the toilet, but he did not flush. Hehe.

The next morning at breakfast my mother complained that the flower bed, which was situated just under the second story window previously used as a potty, was not blooming as it had previously. Mom, ever the actress, talked of having the soil tested and just not being able to figure out what was going on.

Lee's face was a beautiful shade of red.

We could not maintain the facade any longer, and broke out into giggles. My dad thumped Lee on the back and apologized for my sense of humor, then reminded him to please use the facilities whenever he felt nature call.

I am so glad Lee has stuck with me through all of my pranks.

I cannot wait to meet my kids' future spouses. 


5 comments:

  1. Confession time. I once murdered a plant of my grandmothers. I lived at her house for a year during college, and I didn't want to go downstairs to the bathroom. For some reason I thought peeing into potted plants was JUST FINE. Well...it it isn't!

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  2. I can never invite either of you over again.
    :P

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  3. Oh my - funny memory. I am thankful for my dating memories and loved ones to welcome new spouses into hearts and homes.

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