As I was just putting Miles down for his nap, I saw a faint white scratch at the top of the bead board paneling behind his crib. It reminded me of this story, which I will share with you courtesy of my old MySpace Blog (which only has about 10 entries ever.... it was a failed attempt).
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It was the middle of the night in March and I was 9 months pregnant. The nursery was prepared for the baby to arrive. Part of the preparation had included new globes for the ceiling fan in that bedroom. I replaced the ugly cir. 1976 ones with a cute little two-tone white plaid number. I was really proud to have salvaged that charming little white fan. It was, after all, a Hunter. Top of the line. And while Britton and I have replaced all the other fixtures in our house, it was perfect for the nursery.
Now before I get to the part of the story where I tell you just how fast I jumped out of bed when this whole thing went down (literally), let me remind you how quickly a 9-month pregnant girl gets out of bed. It hadn't taken me less than 3 minutes to maneuver my gigantic body out of bed since Christmas. My back hurt and my arm was usually asleep from lying on my left side (per the doc's orders). I would, all in one hysterical effort, do this rocking motion to get myself out of the dip in the center of the bed and throw my legs over the side. It was quite a scene. My poor husband.
Back to the story…
Out of a deep sleep I arose to a strange "BANG!" and before I even knew I was awake I was half way down the hall, heading toward the sound. Britton laughs to this day over how swiftly I moved/waddled….taking off bravely toward the unknown danger. I flipped the light switch in the nursery and found the fan – light fixture and all - hanging from a single wire, still spinning and wobbling crookedly. I entered the room just as Britton arrived in the doorway, and then the entire apparatus came crashing to the floor, shattering my cute little globes, scratching my newly finished hardwood floors, throwing a breaker and shutting off the power in our entire house.
So there I stood. In my bare feet. Nine months pregnant. In the middle of the night. Wearing my pajamas. In the pitch black. With glass from my cute little globes everywhere.
I had to wait in the dark until Britton managed to get the power back and turn on the hall light. He threw me some shoes so I could make my way across the sea of shattered glass, get a broom and dustpan and begin to figure out just what the crap had happened. A quick evaluation revealed that the one of the fan blades had broken off at the stem. It snapped, flew across the room, hit the wall above the baby crib and fell into it. I freaked. What if Miles would have been in that bed? I started sobbing (9 months preggo, remember?)…"what if (sniff) the baby (sniff) would have been in there (sniff, sniff)?". Britton gently reminded me that he wasn't and we decided to leave the mess for the morning.
I share this with you because:
a) I've never heard of it happening before in my life
b) I now will never turn the fan in the baby's room on high
c) or my room for that matter
d) I would suggest that you don't either
e) It makes me wish someone would have had a candid camera....we'd be rich!
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