Bonzer Words!: Tarzan In The Bedroom
Colleen Szabo tells of a collapsed bed.
The house breathed shrouded silence. Four young, drowsy, bodies in their bed-nests and I was devouring a book amidst an ocean of sheets. The space beside me in the double bed remained unoccupied awaiting the 'man of the house' who was under the muted hum of the shower. I relished the quiet and the rare peace.
At the evening meal the 'father of the household' had decided to involve the children in a water fight from the jug on the table. Without looking at them he had flicked water at each face but the lop-sided grin on his face inspired them to retaliate. Sure enough the fun erupted as they chased each other outside amidst shrill shrieks, laughter and deadly aims of moisture from filled plastic mugs.
Around and around, through the front and rear doors, pounding down steps and across shredded grass. I sat, listening, the discarded plates forgotten. I reflected on how eleven months ago this 'father of the family' had been hours from death in life-threatening surgery to his head tumor. It had been a long, tiring journey back to partial health.
As I lay in the ancient double bed, deep in written words, I vaguely heard the shower water cease. I worshipped and revelled in the silence as a mother does at the end of a day. I appreciated this blessing. This peace was then undeniably split and shattered rather unexpectedly. My bedtime was about to change.
With a fierce, ear-splitting roar HE ran down the passage then gave a howling Tarzan yodel while beating his palms in rhythm across his chest in a slapping motion. As he reached the bedroom door his pace quickened and with a herculean jump he leapt mightily and heavily across the bed.
There was an ominous, terrifying 'CRACK', as one bedpost snapped off completely and broke. He, the bedclothes, and I slid in rapid speed from the bed and lay slumped in a twisted heap on the carpet. Dazed but unhurt! Our bed was now just a three-sided collapsed lump of wood. The children stood stunned at the bedroom door as their parents lay most immodestly on the floor. The silence stretched into chuckles and then to hilarious laughs that seemed unending. The mattress was dragged into the lounge room and we added a blanket and rescued pillows. Once again quietness reigned, but then, the eldest son called out gleefully,
'So Tarzan of the bedroom lives again eh, Dad!'
And uproarious giggles erupted yet again.
© Colleen Szabo
