Another memory from Little Brother, Blair!
Speaking of that summer in the Quonset...
Okay, I
don’t remember this...
My dad
told me about it after it happened.
In order
to explain just what happened, I have to provide a bit of background...
When I
was young, not having the ‘walk-around-in-the-dark superpower’, like my little
sister did, I was afraid of said dark.
Needless
to say, I liked my night light.
Also: When
I went to bed at night, I would hide under the covers.
Mom told
me that it was not healthy to cover my head so I had devised a special way of
arranging my bed covers so that I could snuggle down and still have a tunnel
that provided ample air to breathe.
Enough
exposition…
In the
summer of 1968, my family moved from our house on the ranch to a quonset on an
acreage just outside the town of Milk River.
Dad
planned to use the acreage as the headquarters for the ranch and his
veterinarian practice.
A new
house was being built on the property, but it was going to be at least 3 months
before it was completed. Thus, the quonset.
For the
“summer”.
It was a
great adventure. Like camping, except, I got to sleep in my own comfortable bed.
The quonset
was huge—and open—so dad strategically placed the large moving boxes so that we
had our own bedrooms.
We also
had living room and kitchen areas.
I can’t
remember what we did for showers. I guess I was at the age where that wasn’t
very important.
I had my
very own bedroom space with my dresser and bed. I really liked it except there
was no power.
And no
night light.
I
regularly buried myself under my covers when I went to bed at night. It was a cold summer and mom made sure we all
had lots of blankets to keep us warm.
This next
slice of this story is the part I don’t remember.
I am reciting
from what dad told me...
One
evening, my parents went out on a date night. According to Dad, they had a
lovely time. Forgetting for a short period that they even had any kids. (Okay,
that’s my input…)
Then
returned to our quonset home.
It was
after our bedtime, so they did the rounds of all the kids to see that we were
settled in our beds.
Everyone
was sound asleep, except me.
I was
nowhere to be found.
Quickly,
they searched everywhere in the Quonset. No corner, empty box, or piece of
furniture was left unchecked. They even did a quick search of the area immediately
around the Quonset.
Nope. No me.
I’m quite
sure both of them were remembering the animal with the spooky growl my mom had heard
a few nights earlier and thinking it had snagged me, perhaps during a midnight
potty run.
They were
terribly worried and decided to call the police.
Just
before they made the call, for some reason, Dad walked into my bedroom space
and sat in the chair that faced my bed. He was terribly worried and trying to
think if there was somewhere I might be.
As he sat
in the chair and looked over at the pile of blankets on my bed, he suddenly got
the thought that he should pull them back a little.
Which he
did.
There I
was, right there, asleep. Blissfully unaware that I had been missed by anyone.
Well,
unaware until the following day when Dad told me.
Oops.
By the
way, I’m not afraid of the dark anymore.
Though I
did go through a period of fearing to walk through my house in the dark unless
I shuffled.
Because…Lego.
Need I
say more?
There's nothing like snuggling up under a pile of blankets on a cool night. Unless, of course, you end up scaring 10 years off of your parents' lives.
ReplyDeleteIf that was the only time I scared my parents I'm sure they would have had a longer peaceful life.
DeleteOur son Paul once did that same thing. He was about 10 and burrowed so effectively under the covers, he was nowhere to be found! Hysterical for about half an hour, I finally looked through all the blankets and found him sleeping away peacefully. Happiness...
ReplyDeleteYou don't need to say another word about that. I don't walk around my house in the dark without sandals because, cats leave stuff on floors.
ReplyDeleteMy Little Girl once got under a piece of old carpet in the back yard (it was part of the "playhouse" area under an overhang) and managed to lie so flat it looked like there was nothing under there. I almost called the police, too, thinking she'd gone missing.