Goldilocks and the Three Beds

We recently had dinner at my sister's house. David had been missing in action for quite some time and I thought it was probably prudent to go looking for him. You see, my sister has actually decorated her house—with nice things—and does not practice my style of decorating previously referred to as autistic eclectic, which essentially means stripped bare with the exception of whatever David's items of the week may be, currently five empty Kleenex boxes in varying sizes which is another story for a different day. Suffice it to say that visitors to my house in need of a tissue have to pull them out of a Ziploc baggie because David is not currently tolerating full tissue boxes in our house.

At my sister's house, however, in addition to a decadent number of Kleenex boxes with those little tissues still all neatly stacked, she actually has decorative items on her tables and in her bookcases that she has to dust around (or under, as the case may be) and I could only imagine which antique toy or oilcloth books that might have taken David's fancy.

Well, I found him upstairs and although he had made a mess it was really quite benign. Before leaving for dinner, we had bathed David and dressed him in his favorite p.j.s and he apparently was on a quest to find the perfect bed. First, he tried the guest bed and that was TOO SMALL. Then, he tried Annie and John's bed and that was TOO LUMPY, but when he got to Thomas' bed, it was JUST RIGHT, which is not surprising as Thomas recently pushed his twin beds together to form a king sized bed, the largest bed in the house, which is adorned with red bedding. David had tucked himself right in the middle of the bed and had his arms draped over the pillows in playboy fashion. When he noticed me standing in the doorway, he smiled and asked me to bring him a movie to watch—while lounging in bed. It was a scene reminiscent of, I don't know…Goldilocks? Hugh Hefner?