E comes to bed late most nights around 3:00/3:30am. I'm totally jealous of his endurance and can only dream of what I might accomplish in those quiet hours. Unfortunately, the most you can find me doing after a long day of work is putting on my pjs and pouring a glass of wine.
When E crawls into bed, I often feign consciousness, turn over and say something cryptic and uncomprehensible like, “The seaweed crackers are in the fridge at noon” or something equally as bizarre. Last night for whatever reason I was actually alert and talking up a storm-to the point where E considered shooting me with a tranquilizer gun.
Somehow we got on the topic of how as a kid I dreamed of owning one of those
theme beds. The bed I wanted specifically was shaped like a stage coach with canvas/plastic side flaps that could be rolled down. I'm not sure why I was obsessed with the stage coach bed and not the race car bed or the castle but I'm guessing it had to do with the fact that I craved something very specific. Flaps. I needed flaps that rolled down and gave me what every kid wants and never gets-privacy.
E questioned my motives for a stage coach bed and thought it worthy for further psychiatric evaluation. I was quick to remind him of his childhood hot spot-the closet. As a kid E created an entire walk-in closet in his room into his own private space. The closet was not just any walk-in closet but had custom bookshelves, a place for his baseball cards, a bean bag and a lamp, etc. The thing was just short of a marble fireplace and a hook for his mini smoking jacket.
(lying in bed in the dark)
E: "I wish I had that closet now."
K: "I wish I had flaps."
E: "I'd even take the bean bag."
K: "Well, if we ever have kids we are having a closet AND a stage coach bed."
E: "Well, then apparently we will be moving to Arkansas because that is the
only place we'll ever afford room for a closet and a stage coach."
K: "Yeah. Much less anything for the kids."