We were once again moving and showing the house to perspective buyers.
I was, by then, a teenager who thoroughly hated getting up in the morning.
My mother semi-woke me, steered me into her room pillow and blanket in hand, and shoved me under her bed.
It was an antique four poster that was so high you needed a stool to climb into it, so there was plenty of room for me underneath. I was hidden from sight by the dust ruffle.
It was the perfect solution.
I didn’t have to wake up, my mother could show the house to the gentleman who wanted to come before work and she wouldn’t have to put up with a cranky teen!
Until….. as she was showing him through the master bedroom I rolled over and my arm flopped out from under the bed!
She smiled sweetly and said, “Oh, that’s just my daughter. She didn’t want to get up this early.” And continued the showing.
We never heard from him again.
We never understood why……LOL