Okay, where was I?
Bedside tables. Right. So I was thinking that we could all learn interesting things about each other’s personalities by looking at our bedside tables. Like, do you have rose-scented hand cream or Bag Balm? A photo of your father in a silver frame or a snap shot of an ex lover? Things like that.
But then I actually went and looked at my bedside table and swear to God this is what I found:
- Digital clock missing its clear plastic face
- Blue stuffed bunny (not mine)
- Pink beaded necklace (not mine)
- Susan Crandall’s PROMISES TO KEEP looking warped because a glass of water got spilled on it (NOBODY TELL SUSAN!)
- Lamp with stained lamp shade
- Cough drop wrapper
- Hardback Nancy Drew: THE DOUBLE JINX MYSTERY (not mine)
- Nail clippers
- Calvin and Hobbes comics collection book (not mine)
Huh. Am I a slob or what?
But, really, there are extenuating circumstances here. Namely, dogs and children. For instance, Susie’s warped book (NOBODY TELL SUSAN!) got that way because I have a small rat terrier dog who distains her water dish in the kitchen. Instead, she prefers the glass of water I usually have on my bedside table at night. If I forget to bring it down in the morning, sometime during the day she will climb on the bed, jump to the bedside table, and drink out of the glass, usually knocking it over in the process. (And I don’t want to hear from all you non-dog people who think dogs drinking out of people glasses is totally disgusting. It is. Deal with it.) And when the dog is on my nightstand, apparently she knocks everything else off, too. For a while there I was coming home to my house in central Illinois and thinking an earthquake had hit every day. Anyway, this also explains the clock being broken.
Similarly, some of the things on my bedside table belong to my Youngest. We have discussed the concept of personal space—or rather MY personal space—but we’re still working on the idea and it appears to be a hard one. I’m resigned to that fact that I’ll have pink beaded necklaces and the like on my bedside table until she leaves for college.
So. Tell me what’s on YOUR bedside table. Or, yanno, if you’re not interested in that topic, tell me what you think of Kiefer’s voice. Look! Here he is again!