The setup: I had a headache Sunday night. By the time 10:00pm rolled around (which my body recognized as only 9:00pm because it was Daylight Savings Time Sunday) I just wanted to go to bed and close my eyes. I finally climbed into bed 50 minutes later and prayed I’d be able to fall asleep. At 11:33, I looked at my clock again and sighed. No relief yet.
Sleep did come. It must have come. Because at 12:17am I was awakened to a loud crash.
But what I heard:
(minus the fire)
“What?” I woke up. “What’s going on?”
My first thought: dad! What’s wrong with dad?
I ran out of my bedroom and up the stairs not knowing what to expect or what I’d find.
As I approached the top of the stairs I saw glass. A lot of glass. Broken glass all over the floor. It’s funny how two thoughts can come so quickly to mind. We’ve been having wind storms, did the tree blow over into the house? Or worse, did somebody just break into the house?
And where was dad?
Keep in mind, I had just been ripped from my sleep by a loud crash. I still wasn’t coherent.
I ran down the hall screaming.
I found dad… still sleeping. “Dad!” I may have been a little hysterical at this point. The adrenaline was pumping and I couldn’t sit still and reason. I ran back to the kitchen and that’s when I saw the cupboard. After approximately 30 years, the shelf decided to quit working. No notice. Just upped and quit. How rude. All of my mom’s fancy dishes had taken a tumble to the floor. It was a spectacular crash.
I looked down at the floor and saw blood. The bottoms of my feet were cut up. Apparently, that’s what happens when you run across a floor covered in broken glass.
I finally started to calm down enough to figure out what had happened. No tree. No intruder. Nobody injured (except me with the feet). Ohhhh. Gotcha.
The next morning we diligently worked on cleaning up the kitchen. Broken glass was everywhere. All over the counter (it broke my crock pot that was sitting underneath the cupboard), all over the floor, down the stairs, into the living room. I told you it was a spectacular crash.
I’m not even sure the total casualty count. Most of the dishes were purchased by mom years ago to protect her heirlooms (smart woman). However, at least one known antique was in the mix. The only person who would know the extent of the damage is gone.
Surprisingly, for as much of a mess it made, there were quite a few survivors.
So, we spent Monday cleaning and rearranging. The remaining dishes now have a new home. With the popcorn. Because if there is anything I’m going to take extra precautions to protect, it’s the popcorn.
I suffered with my headache for most of the day. And yes, I slept like a baby that night. I guess that’s one way to adapt to the time change quicker than usual. But I think I’ll pass next go-around.