Oh, Sleep, Where Art Thou?

I just woke up from a fair night’s sleep.

For me ‘fair’ is as good as it gets.

And I know because, once, I had a fantastic sleep.

The best sleep of my life.

It happened when I was eight.

Let me tell you about it . . .

Dad had taken my brothers . . . somewhere.

Exactly where they went is blurry.

The important point is that they were away. And that their wonderful bunkbed in the bedroom next to mine stood empty.

I should mention here that I had long coveted their beds. They were made of beautiful, solid maple and were soooo comfortable.

But I digress . . .

My older sister, Chris, and I saw an opportunity for some fun and adventure.

We’d stay the night in our brothers’ beds!

Wow!

Okay, I admit it. We didn’t have a very exciting life.

Moving on . . .

Chris took the upper bunk and I snuggled into the lower.

We talked and laughed.

Mom made a couple of visits to the doorway to threaten to separate us and finally to *shudder* make us go back to our own beds.

It was this second warning that made me finally give up and close my eyes.

My shoulder started to ache so I decided I should turn over and get more comfortable.

I opened my eyes.

Sunlight was streaming into the room.

At first, I didn’t recognize it for what it was. I had never seen the world go from black to light quite so dramatically.

I thought someone had turned on the lamp.

I turned to look at the window.

Nope. I was right. It was sunlight.

Somehow, morning had instantly followed bedtime.

Instantly.

It took some time for me to realize that I had just had a night of deep, dreamless sleep.

I know it happens to other people, but it had never happened before.

Or since.

To me.

But I have that one night.

And, believe me, in the sleepless hours between midnight and four A.M., I often think of it.

Sigh.

Where’s a stolen bunkbed when you need it?