Talkin Trash

My sister Dale and I both had the habit of climbing into bed with our parents almost every night.  Dale stopped when she was four or five, while I broke myself of the habit when I left for college.  Okay, maybe a little before that.

One hot, humid night I climbed in with my parents.  Swede began a stern lecture, saying it was time for me to be a big boy and stay in my own bed, no more being a baby, etc.

His lecture in the dark of night lasted a couple of minutes.  When he finished, the room became quiet.  My parents were waiting for some kind of response, and they got one.  I gave my father a solid backhand to the face--not a light tap, but a hard smack.  Evidently I did not care for the content of my father's lecture.  Swede's reaction was to explode in laughter, which got my mother laughing.  What a break!  My father's reaction could easily have gone in a different direction.  Swede and Estelle told that story often.  The moral:  If I'm in bed with you, don't criticize me.