A Good Day for a Tilly Moment

Oh to sleep on a decent mattress!! I was so excited. Suffering from a trapped nerve was no joke and this new foam mattress was going to help, if not solve the lack of sleep by moulding its self to my body, supporting it where needed. Just thinking about it eased my joints.

            Well as soon as we ordered it I went and brought new covers and was pleased with the results. Just by changing the covers the room will take on a whole new dynamic. The mattress was due to be delivered between eight and four. So I had organised a friend to take the children to school and pick them up if needed. We had managed to get the old mattress propped up against the wardrobe and I had taken the opportunity to give the room a good clean. Just as my friend arrived and we were getting bags and children in the car the mattress arrived, you just know when you’re going to have a good day. My son shouted out that he would help me when he got home and not to try and take it upstairs. I didn’t promise.

            As soon as I had cleared the morning’s usual eruption, I took a closer look at the packages. The mattress had been rolled up. I looked at it and then I looked at the stairs that were straight in-front and I reasoned. The mattress being made of foam would smell so I would need to air it. I could give it a go getting the mattress upstairs and if it was too much leave it for later. If I did manage it, I would have the room ready for my husband, who like me was dead excited about having a decent nights sleep. I didn’t need any more convincing to give it a try. Well I pushed, tugged and hauled the cigar like package up the stairs, promising myself that if it got too much I would just leave it. But of course I couldn’t.

            Standing in the playground later I stretched my aching back, when asked what I had been up to I excitedly told them what I had been doing, they laughed and asked if that was possibly why I was suffering now with a bad back. Hadn’t given it a thought, how stupid am I, my mind was able my body incompetent, never mind it was worth the effort. All the children now aboard, we went home in a flurry.

            After the children had tried it out, I sprayed it again with fabric freshener and made it up. I just had time for a shower before I started dinner. Perfect!

            It was a good day everything falling into place. Oh that makes me laugh ‘falling into place’. You see at this moment in time, I’m wedged in the en suite. The mattress that we had taken off and lodged against the wardrobes had indeed fallen, right against the opposite wall the one containing the door to the haven of my dreams. Scented candles waft relaxing aromas across me but don’t have the desired affect, so I snuff them out! I was trapped not knowing when I would be released.

            The children have been told not to disturb me so are playing music at full volume, playing a game on the TV and talking to their friends while u-Tubing with their ear phones in. The one day they choose to do as there’re told and not to interrupt me in the shower, they choose to day.

            I have no idea what time it is or how long I’ve been here already. I’m now lying on the floor looking through the sky light looking at the clouds go by and reciting in my mind ‘Leisure’ by William Henry Davies, a gentle poem written by a colourful character. I lay there and contemplate that great mans life. He was borne in Wales and became a vagrant who lost his leg trying to jump a train in America. He came back to England and married a lady of the night and by all accounts had a good marriage and later life. Writing a novel ‘Young Emma’ but at the last minute decided not to publish it as it was a based on his life before and after Helen with dark and deep tones. Knowing a little of how a writers mind works dipping into and out of reality it was probably best that the publisher kept a copy under lock and key until both husband and wife had passed. People would wonder what was true and what was supposed fiction.

            In his roaming he met all of life’s trials and human sides and yet he still wrote with a childlike simplicity which I love but as his words wonder around my thoughts they give me many complex reasons and ideas.

            This experience would have been great if I had only had a glass or two of wine and had a copy of the poem. I can hear the door going and finally the noise of the house has subsided as everyone is now looking for me. Well they must be getting hungry by now.

            Now this leaves me with a dilemma; do I call out to be released and laughed at for the rest of my life as this story is recounted time and time again. Or do I take a few more minuets of considered contemplation and enjoy hearing their banter rise into concern as to my whereabouts? I may be too hopeful on the concerned front. In hope that my husband will find me first and he too respectful to make fun of the situation I’m in so decide to wait a while.

            I hear my husband laugh quietly to himself and close our bedroom door. He lies appreciably on the bed and I know this will be a mistake and soon, I hear his gentle snoring floating on the tranquil air.

            I bide my time as soon the hunger and the loss of both parents will intrigue the children enough for them to come and find us. And sure enough the shouts start to rise. They remind me of baby birds squawking for their food. I call gently and hear him stir, he raises and moves the mattress that was pinning the door shut with the rebound action that I could not fight against, though I tried and have the burses to prove it. He opens the door and jumps six foot in the air with fright. I smile and walk serenely out of my prison. I had got away with it quietly waiting had done the trick, embarrassment avoided.

            In the kitchen  I open the bottle of chilled wine and finished off the evening meal I had prepared and as we all sit down to eat my husband starts to ask questions. It was a mistake to believe my husband could resist the urge to have fun at my expense. Would I have saved his blushes, probably not?