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."