Bed-der Days

“Where have you been?  I was worried!”  My husband, usually a calm and steady rock of a man, entered my car, omitted the kiss and greeting, and flung those words at me like tiny Ninja knives.  His angst took me aback, and I pondered my response accordingly.

This past Sunday he sang in the choir at both church services.  Fearing too much gospel and goodness would taint my impish ways; I attended one service and then left to buy groceries.   Often, on Sundays like this, I get back before he is done with the second service.  I park and read like a good wife until he wanders out, and then we get lunch.

However, yesterday the grocery store was oddly crowded and the checkout lines were slow and contentious.  A cashier, in a half-apologetic way, said she thought customers were stocking up before the Vikings-Packers football game.  Judging from the shopping carts around me, state rivalries are hungry affairs and need to be addressed with multiple varieties of cheese flavored, food-like items.  I wasn’t wearing a watch, but given the sea of shoppers, suspected I was running later than usual.

After loading the groceries in the trunk, I headed back to church to pick up my husband.  On the highway in front of me a SUV, pulling a trailer loaded with a mattress set, seemed inexplicably ominous.

As I drove along I noted the straps supposedly tying the mattresses to the trailer seemed, well, loose.  A few miles later a chunk of something flew out of the trailer, bounced off the asphalt, and barely missed crashing into my car.  I couldn’t make out what it was, but it looked metallic and pulley-like.  Muttering a “thank you for missing me” prayer under my breath, I became wary of what might come next. It didn’t take long to find out.

About a half-mile before the church driveway, the trailer gave a little zigzag and the upper mattress lifted off like a NASA rocket. I watched in disbelief as it did a half turn in the air and then floated, seemingly in slow motion, towards my car.  All I could think of was that a huge, tufted, snowflake from hell was about to snuff out my car.

I swerved this way and that as it wafted towards me.  Like one of those water tank games where you drop a coin in and try to control where it lands, the mattress was unpredictable in its descent.  As much as I wanted to avoid the thing, I also wanted to make sure the cars behind me understood what was happening so they wouldn’t get hurt either.  I pumped my break lights and slowed.  The mattress hit the asphalt and took an impressive bounce or two into the ditch.  A moment later the SUV pulled over–“Hey honey, how many mattresses did we have on the trailer when we left home?”– while I swung around the milieu and into the church parking lot.  I noted a car that had been following me pulled over to help the SUV reclaim the mattress.  Nobody was hurt, but I’m guessing the rocket/mattress may have seen bedder, er, better nights.

My husband’s question hit me hard.  “Where were you? I was worried!” I paused, and then told him I wished he wouldn’t worry just because I was a few minutes later than usual.  “Oh, and I was almost taken out by a mattress.”

Note to self…Maybe I need to start attending both church services.

Escaping a pillow top accident? It was the best part of my day.