I put the fitted sheet on the bed and made sure the sides were tucked in neat. Then I grabbed the straight sheet and opened it up. To spread it across the bed, I gave it a big whip. The end went higher than I meant, and it bumped the light fixture over the bed. One of the light bulbs fell out, landing in the center of the bed.
The light bulb actually fell out of its own screw-threaded socket piece. The metal part of the bulb that screws into the socket was still in the socket—just the glass bulb lay on the bed. “Well,” I thought, “at least it landed softly on the bed.” Had it fell on the hardwood floor, it would have shattered, and clean up would have been troublesome.
I let go of the sheet and reached over to pick up the bulb. It was hot for having been on for a couple hours, and I reflexively let go and shouted in pain. The bulb smashed into the footboard of the bed and shattered into a million pieces. Oh, crap!
Little pieces of glass were scattered all over the bed and the floor, and lord knows how far the smash threw them. Oh, double crap. My hand stung from the burn, but I was more stunned by how my stupidity just made the situation oh so much worse. The bulb had landed softly on the bed; it was safe and in one piece. Then I had to pick it up and smash it all over the bedroom.
My wife kept the children out of the bedroom while I tried to clean up all the tiny, glinting, glass shards. There was glass all over the floor, on our sheets, on our comforter, and probably in places I didn’t think of checking. I vacuumed the floor and heard the clickety of the pieces being sucked up. I tried to vacuum the sheets and comforter, but when the hose sucked up the cloth, pieces of glass jumped up all over the place.
There was no way I was going to get all the glass out of the sheets—at least not sure enough that I’d ever be comfortable lying in them. I could just imagine getting cuts and lacerations all over sensitive areas of my body while turning over in the bed. I explained the situation to my wife, and she agreed to let me just throw away the sheets. A shame, that; they were nice, comfortable, and relatively new sheets. The comforter, though, I took outside and shook vigorously. Then I shook it again. Then I laid it across the patio chairs and beat it. Then I gathered it up and shook it again. God, I hope I got all the glass shards out of it. At least, though, it doesn’t lie right on top of our skin in bed. I ran the vacuum hose over it just to be sure. Then I vacuumed the floor again.
When we woke up this morning, we had no scratches or cuts, so I guess I got all the glass out of the bed. I need to get it out of my mind; thinking about there being a stray shard of glass in my bed just makes me shiver.