Unruly Weaving

by Lorna Kerin Beall

For a change of pace in our blog, I’m talking about something humorous (and I admit, naughty) that I did as a child.

When I was twelve years old, besides doing outdoor chores, it was my job to dust the living room of our humble, but cozy farmhouse. When I entered the room, I couldn’t help but groan. My older stepbrother, Bobby had been fixing a radio on the coffee- table. He’d left wires, parts and various tools scattered all over. This wasn’t unusual. He was always puttering with one thing or another in our front room. And of course, in my parents’ eyes, 15-year-old Bobby could do no wrong.

"How can he leave such a disaster in the living room, and yet have a spotless bedroom?" I asked myself. The last time I’d called him for supper, I’d taken a good peek. Nothing was out of place. The room was perfect. The bed was made and his shoes were lined neatly by it. All his clothes were hung up. And even his old electronic magazines were displayed in the artful shape of a fan! He had a big bedroom. Why the heck couldn’t he fix all those old radios and things in there?

And then I had an inspiration. I knew Bobby had gone somewhere with a friend. I hurried to his room, tumbling the covers on his bed. I even threw his pillow on the floor. I scattered his magazines. And as I was leaving, for good measure, I gave his colorful throw rug a big kick.

Of course, Bobby tattled. Mom told me later, that she couldn’t believe her ears! (She thought I was such a goody-two-shoes.) “I don’t know what got into Lorna,” she told him. “And the only thing I can think to have you do is to mess up her room.”

Bobby loved the idea. For once my bedroom was clean, and he messed it up good. He even pulled some stuff out of my trash and set it about, including a partly eaten powdered sugar donut. He could hardly wait till I went in.

But the joke was on Bobby. I sailed into my room and sat down on the rumpled bed. Removing the donut from on top of my book, I took a bite (it wasn’t too bad). Then I proceeded to read.

I still chuckle over the incident. I can’t remember if I apologized. I hope so. Bobby passed away several years ago. And I picture him up in Heaven, shaking his head and chuckling. In spite of our squabbles, he always had a good sense of humor.