Steve's bed was made with the sheets tucked tight like you'd see in the military. Because making the bed like that everyday was such a hassle, Steve would slide into bed at the top of the covers so the sides of the sheets would stay tucked in and he would slide out of bed in the morning, so as to avoid remaking the bed. In the morning, he would simply pat down the blanket and sheets to destroy any evidence that a body had been beneath the blankets. Steve's bed was also right next to the light switch, so it was his responsibility to turn out the light each night. The only problem was, once Steve was in bed, he was in bed. He couldn't move. He was so confined by his sheets that he decided to keep a cane by his bed to turn out the lights each night.
Steve also loved to drink Tang in the mornings. Not for breakfast, though. For before breakfast. Each night, Steve would fill a cup of water and set it on the bookshelf above his bed so it would be cool by the morning. When Steve would wake up, his morning ritual was to slide out of bed so he was sitting up, reach above his head to grab the cup of water, and then he would mix in Tang from the contanger next to his bed. Once it was mixed, Steve would guzzle the Tang, get off the bed, pat down his sheets and carpe diem.
It didn't take dad long to see that every can of Tang has a silver lining. One night, after Steve had placed a cup of water on the bookshelf above his bed, while Steve was brushing his teeth, Dad quickly tied a string around the cup of water on he bookshelf and attached the other end to Steve's cane.
Once the booby trap (great game) was set, in typical LeBaron fashion, Dad pretended to be asleep. Steve came into the room after brushing his teeth, shimmied under the covers and reached for his cane to turn out the light. As Steve lifted the cane for the light, the string tying the cane to the cup became taut and sent the cup of water toppling over the edge of the bookshelf. Poor Steve was too constricted to roll out of the way as he saw the water coming down. His bed was like a Chinese finger trap. Across the room, in the other bed, Dad lay under the covers shaking with laughter. The shaking chortle is another attribute passed down by Dad.
Tricks didn't stop there, though. Dad is the king of taking fake rubber rodents, reptiles, and the like and making them seem alive.
When Dad sees one of these said creatures that looks remotely real he loves to pick it up and hold it and make it look like it scurries up his arm or will propel it from his hands in a way that makes it look like it's jumping on you. He's actually really good at it.
Dad also played tricks when disciplining. One sibling though it would be funny to make a younger sibling drink some water from the toilet. When Mom and Dad got home, the younger sibling was crying and told them what had happened. That night, Dad went into the older sibling's room and handed him a glass of water and said drink this. The child drank the water immediately. Then Dad said, "Where do you think I got that water?" The child remembered the earlier toilet water shenanigans and immediately started crying. The water was from the faucet. Dad 1, older sibling 1, younger sibling 0.
Dad also knows a few card tricks, coin tricks, and the trick where he makes it look like he's bending silverware, a dinner favorite.
One of the funniest things Dad sent me on my mission was a collapsable baton for leading music. Attached to the baton was a note that read, "This baton is collapsable, so if you expand it all the way and hold it up to you noise you can collapse it and make it look like it's going into your brain. Love Dad"
Another trick Dad tried to pull was growing a mustache, but that didn't quite pan out; though, I admit I was fooled.
I'm glad you're such a jokester Dad.
After dad told me about Steve, John and I created a light-switch-reacher (out of a hanger at first, then later a dowel) so that we turn out the light without leaving the bunk bed. Lazy LeBaron ingenuity at its finest. Carrie laughed pretty hard when I told her about that.
ReplyDeleteBob, thanks for not telling everyone that it was me that gave toilet water to Maggie to drink. That saved us all a lot of embarrassment. Phew.