Never judge a bed by its covers

My Aunt Bridget, or Bea, as she is affectionately known, was only nine years old when I was born so I've always treated her like an older sister rather than an aunt. She is a beautiful woman with great taste, fabulous legs and a hot little bod any woman in her 20's, let alone her 40's, would envy. She married her high school sweetheart who happens to be a builder and he built her a gazillion square foot house that sits high on a hill, with the backyard on a golf course, and, outside of the Coors Estate in Tucson, is the most beautifully decorated home I have ever been in. It was on the home tour - have you got a mental picture yet?

She and my Uncle Rick don't have any children but they do have Maggie, a 16 year old mellow beagle mix, and Boo, a black long haired setter mix who I like to call the canine equivalent of my son, Kolya; a happy-go-lucky, 'hey I'm glad to see ya, wanna play?' kind of dog. Bridget and Rick are out of town this weekend and needed someone to care for their babies; my sister volunteered. But my sister works - a lot - on the weekends so I volunteered to be 'tortured' and stay at Bridget's home last night in her place. When my husband, daughter, and I arrived it was after dark and we were tired. Which bedroom would I sleep in? Since the first floor has two bedrooms, each with its own bath, it was going to be a tough decision. Kind of like, "do I stay in the Lincoln bedroom or the Queens' bedroom?" if I were at the White House. But since there were ball gowns (seriously) on the bed of the room that DOESN'T have a TV, it was a pretty easy choice. I go and take all the beautiful pillows off and turn down the bed. Oksana decided she would sleep on the couch so she could also watch TV, but after about 12 minutes was creeped out because the curtains don't close and there are wall-to-ceiling windows and she "didn't want someone watching her." I told her to go watch TV in Bridget's bedroom upstairs, where no one could "watch her." So she grabbed her comforter and headed for the stairs. After getting her situated, I went to bed. "Hmmmmm, this mattress is not very comfy", I thought. But I was tired and it was after midnight so I fell asleep pretty quickly.

3 a.m.: I am woken to what sounds like snoring, but it's not my husband's familiar snoring. (because, I mean, he doesn't snore!) I use my cell phone light to orient myself and look for the dogs. There isn't one to be seen in the room, which didn't surprise me since their beds are in Bridget's bedroom and they love Oksana. I lie back down and close my eyes.... There it is again! What the heck? Are the dogs in the bathroom? The closet? The hall? I get up again and check everywhere. No dogs. I lie back down but this time am thinking, "man, I miss my bed in Tucson" as well as, "am I dreaming?" I roll over, hit my pillow a couple of times and.... There's the noise again! This time I know I am not dreaming. Could I have left one of the dogs outside? It sounds like it's coming from the window? By this time I've stirred enough to wake up Kase who promptly says, "it's one of the dogs" to which I reply, "but they're not in here" to which he rolls over and mumbles, "did you check under the bed?" Hmmm, no. So, still by the light of my cell phone, I crawl on my hands and knees, lift up the elegant, rich material bed skirt, and peer under the bed. There, smack dab in the middle, is Boo. If it weren't three in the morning, it would have been funny; but now I'm wide awake. I hear Maggie's paws 'click click' on the wood floors and it sounds like she's pacing so I leave to let her out. As I pass through the living room, Oksana's on the couch again, asleep with 'Hannah Montana', or some teenage girl's show on TV. After Maggie does her business, I return to the living room and change the channel. Oksana promptly wakes up so I turn it back to her show and head up to Bea's room to watch TV. Oksana had made the bed when she was there so she could sleep on top of the comforter; I go find a blanket and do the same. Ooooh, her bed is comfy - she has a memory foam top - and 'Bridget Jones' Diary' is on. "Perfect. I'll be asleep in no time", I think. Well, I forgot what a cute movie that darn thing is so I watch it to the end and now it's 5 a.m., I can either keep watching TV or shut it off, but if I shut it off there will only be... silence. I cannot sleep in silence so I leave it on hoping I'll be able to doze off. Then I hear Boo snoring again. She has followed me and is louder than before (probably because she's on her bed with no bed skirt to muffle it) "Ooooh this isn't going to work!" I say out loud as I grab my blanket and head back downstairs to where my noisemaker and husband and not memory foam bed are. I step over Maggie and get back into bed, trying to think relaxing thoughts and not move around too much so I don't wake Kasey. But all I could think is, "what the hell is that ticking? and then, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SMELL??" There is nothing quite like the smell of a dog fart. Thanks Maggs. And now the sun is coming up. I get back up, take the beautiful ticking clock off the dresser and put it in the closet, close the bathroom door where the sun is coming through and lie back down. Kasey rolls over again and says something incoherent, then falls back asleep.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I hear is the phone; it's Aunt Candy. "Whatcha doin'?" she cheerfully asks. "Sleeping." I reply in my raspy, just-woke-up voice. "WHAT??" she says. At this point I realize she thinks I am Bridget because Bridget is notorious for being an early riser so I tell her it's me. She quickly gets off the phone to let me go back to sleep, but it's no use. By this time Kasey is awake and he gets up. Oksana, who I'm sure has been up for at least an hour, hears us and comes in. "How did you sleep?" she asks as she bounces on the edge of the bed. "Not good," I tell her. We pack up and are driving home and I'm writing this blog in my head, because as I'm reliving the events of the night, they're sort of a funny story, in a 'I only got three hours of sleep' kinda way. My sister calls and I start to tell her about Boo. She interrupts, "oh, under the bed, snoring?" Talk about the wind being taken out of your sails! I then whine about my back. "Oh, I know. And I feel bad, because the bed's so pretty and I'm sure it's a top-of-the-line mattress!", she replies. I start to tell her about the clock, but stop, not wishing to ruin my story any further. So this blog is for everyone BUT my sister or anyone who has stayed at the Lincoln Bedroom at Bridget's. XOXO