Shenanigans In The Bed

 After our impassioned pleas Mommie allowed Ivy and me to move into the upstairs room. We were up there a few days before trouble befell us. Instead of going to sleep as we were told we lay awake.

Our talking and giggling drew nightly warnings from Daddy in the room below us. “You gals cut out the shenanigans and go to sleep.” Night after night we cavorted; night after night Daddy issued his warning; night after we continued our antics.

One night Daddy called, “If you gals don’t settle down and go to sleep I’m coming up there with the strap.” Daddy’s favorite behavioral control implement was the razor strap.

Like other nights we did not settle down. Then we heard him. As he made his way up the stairs in the dark –(for he took no time to light the kerosene lamp),- we placed our pillows horizontally under the quilt, slid under the bed and lay quietly.

He stormed into the room, gave the pillows a few well-placed whacks with the razor strap  “I don’t want to hear another sound or I’ll be back.” He fumbled his way across the room and down the stairs.

We climbed from under the bed, replaced our pillows with bodies grateful to have escaped the strap. With great difficulty we did not make another sound for some time. Then with controlled laughter we spoke in whispers low enough to keep the razor strap at bay.