As most of you who are regular readers of my blog know, my bed broke on Thursday. Now, being that I have bunk beds and I sleep on the top anyway, this did very little to disrupt my normal pattern of bedroom living. However, my futon is the only place to sit in my room unless you want to sit on one of the three awesome rugs that grace us with their presence. So naturally, broken futon + nice rugs = sitting on the floor on the rugs, yes? And that is where I have been sitting for the past three days. Smack dab in the middle of my room on my floor.
*Enter awesome mom. Alright, well, on Sunday afternoon I had a lot of studying to do, so I plopped myself down on the floor to get ready to dive into Romanian and Hungarian history (yes, it's more exciting than you even imagine...) and Mom comes in my room and says, "Calyn. I'm fixing the bed." So we do this "duct-tape fixes everything" number and stick cement blocks and 2X4's underneath the bed to prop it up. And it is beautiful, let me tell you. My mom can do anything. I have full confidence that she could run the world. So we fix the bed enough to where one person can sit on it (sorry, girls. We're not gonna have a repeat of last week on Thursday. One person on the futon at a time. It's like a trampoline...) And she leaves to go do other amazing things.
Well, of course since my futon is fixed now I'm gonna read about the marvels of Romanian and Hungarian history from the comfort of my futon, so I sit myself down on the newly renovated couch, and not five minutes later hear a noise come from my ceiling. I look up just in time to see the glass fixture covering up my light bulbs on my ceiling come undone and fal- seemingly in slow motion-into a shattered mess on my floor. Glass went everywhere! Shrapnel flying through the air and landing all over- even my futon. The giant brass holder lay menacingly in the exact place I would have been sitting... I could have died, people! Had my mom not come and decided that my bed needed fixing, the lone cut on my foot would have been multiplied about a thousand times, I probably would have gotten a concussion and you all would probably be bringing me "Get Well" cards at TMH that say: "Dear Calyn, we hope the doctors can reattach your arms soon...we'll keep looking for that finger. Feel better. Love, the Smiths."
Anyway, this is the second time recently that I've almost died, so now Todd's got me paranoid that I'm involved in some "Final Destination" deal.
Okay, well, it's 10:40 and I hope the Olegs wake up soon. I wanna hang out with them...
Ya'll have a great Monday! Arrivederci!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Calyn...I'm glad God sent your angel of a mother to rescue you, because I just couldn't handle you dying!
As much as I laughed reading that, I realize that this is no laughing matter. I, for one, am certainly glad that you did not die. I don't know what I'd do with no Calyn.
Post a Comment