Fun Monday: I Can't Show You What Isn't There
For today's Fun Monday, AOJ and the Lurchers gave us this assignment: Continuing in the spirit of "being interested in people," I would like to know, or see, what's on, in or under your bedside table!
Well, I can't show you what isn't there. I have no bedside table. Yes, I know, weep for me now, it's quite sad.
We've tried a few different configurations of our bedroom, and the only one that allows for the two dressers we need, plus a bookshelf, without having our bed right up against a window -- because we live in California and Californians don't put their beds near windows if they can help it because we do not want shards of glass to fall upon us during an earthquake -- is also a configuration that does not leave enough room on the sides of the bed for tables. My husband has the bookshelf within arm's reach, so he can put his books, his glasses, his bottle of water there.
So what do I have on my side of the bed? About 1 foot of space between me and the bedroom door. In other words, I'm easy access for nighttime wanderers, of which we have many. I don't blame my husband for this; we picked sides of the bed so long before we had kids that I just got the luck of the draw on this one. But being where I am, I hear EVERYTHING coming from the kids' rooms and I'm the first parent they reach when they somnambulate around at 2AM. Big fun.
So IF I had a bedside table, I would keep on and in it the things that end up tucked underneath my bed when I am too tired to get up and put them on the dresser. They are:
• at least two issues of the New Yorker, with all of the cartoons read and at least two articles having been started. Rarely finished.
• the book What to Eat, by Marion Nestle, because I really want to read it but never do.
• whatever book I really am reading, which currently is So Long, See You Tomorrow.
• the socks I took off right before I got into bed last night. And the night before that, and the night before that.
• usually one children's shoe. The one I spend way too long looking for before I remember that the foot in question unshod itself in my bedroom and somehow managed to leave just one shoe behind.
• a soccer ball. But then, you'll find soccer balls in almost every conceivable nook, cranny and corner of this house.
Someday, I'll have a bedside table. Either when I find one I like that will fit in a one-foot space, or when we hit the big time and move to a house that really does fit a family of seven. Maybe when I do get one, I will finally feel like a grown up. Probably not, though: the minivan didn't do it...the mortgage didn't do it...back-to-school night didn't do it...not even labor and delivery have done it.
So you'll have to tell me: Does a bedside table confer adulthood?