That did NOT Just Happen!

But it DID Happen ...

In 2009, nearly fifty years after last seeing each other as children at 9 and 11, Robert and I met again at a high school multi-class reunion and, both single and starry-eyed, we started dating.

We loved our blooming relationship and all the giddy feelings that come with discovering “this is the one”.

Robert lived in Ohio and I was in Pennsylvania. Every other week, he drove four hours each way so we could spend a weekend together at my apartment. I say “weekend”, but allowing for the drive time each way, we actually only had one full day and night together —twice a month.

After six months, I realized one morning, it wasn’t working —at least for me. I felt it was time for him to (excuse me) either shit or get off the pot. Either we were a couple, or we weren’t. I told him how I felt and asked if he also thought it was time. No more driving back and forth for a few hours together.

He made the move.

I remember sitting on the bed watching him unpack, butterflies swirling in my tummy. I was so happy and I hoped he was, too. He looked over, saw me smiling, and his own happiness kicked in. He stood and, as he threw himself on the bed to reach for a hug …

(* (* ( CRASH )* )* )

The wooden lip holding the mattress and box spring on the high bed frame gave way. Suddenly, we were lying inside the busted bed frame, on the mattress, on the floor, legs splayed awkwardly on the bed frame above us.

“That did NOT just happen!”

Wide-eyed, we stared at each other, then at the mess all around us, then back at each other. Robert was apologizing profusely, but it all just seemed so insanely funny that I started to laugh and I couldn’t stop. I laughed until my sides ached and until I couldn’t breathe.

Once Robert recognized the humor there, the laughter became uncontrollable. Even after we stopped laughing, the mere thought of what had happened brought stifled snorts and even more laughing.

“That did NOT just happen!” became “I can’t BELIEVE that happened!” and when we called a carpenter to come and repair it, he saw it as “WHAT the HELL happened?” and then even more laughing.

To this day, I still don't know what the carpenter really thought. He gave us one of those dirty-minded all-knowing smiles any time we tried to explain …

Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
Quora Top Writer 2018.
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