When you marry someone,
you marry everything that comes with them.
You know THE vows...
"in sickness and in health,
in holey blue t-shirt and
ugggly brown chair."
Your spouse's favorite stuff is part of them.
It's a package deal.
It's a package deal.
So when I married PaulA...
I married his waterbed.
I married his waterbed.
aka the H2O bed
(The Periodic Table of Elements is one of my favorite things.)
When we moved to Jacksonville, FL,
I suggested leaving the H2O bed behind.
That idea, however, was dead in the water
as soon as I mentioned it.
as soon as I mentioned it.
Man Overboard!
You would have thought I suggested...
stabbing it with scissors and having it die a slow leak.
I decided to not make waves...
so
the H2O bed moved with us.
the H2O bed moved with us.
Get a hose. Fill 'er up.
Anywhoo.....
I eventually learned to sleep on the high seas.
When PaulA would roll over and create a 3-foot wave,
I learned to move with the wave and not fight it.
Sometimes the undertow would take me back out and
I'd go completely under
and resurface;
gasping for air.
But that just happened maybe once or twice.
Over time I learned the advantage and power of the big wave.
The H2O bed was especially helpful when I was pregnant.
When I was so large that getting out of bed became difficult,
PaulA would start a wave from his side
and I would ride that wave out of bed.
Hang 10.
But alas...
when we moved from Jacksonville to St. Louis,
the idea of another H2O bed move was
dead in the water with me.
Come hell or high water
Come hell or high water
the H2O bed was not making the journey.
I'm not sure if H2O beds are popular anymore...
or it was just a fad back in the day,
but I like remembering ...
my cute lifeguard,
PaulA
PaulA
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