Occasionally, I take a day away from The Family Bed to run errands, attend workshops & meetings, or maybe even grab a latte with my Spirit Guide. Even though I love my work, I sometimes just need a break, you know? I try not to take these ‘holidays’ very often: Many of my Companions are very fragile, emotionally and mentally, so I hesitate to leave them unsupervised for any length of time. You never know when a Companion’s anxiety will overflow and cause the others to meltdown.
Once, I went to the post office to receive delivery of a batch of carpet samples. We were re-decorating Candace’s tunnel and I felt like a more lively carpet would encourage her to make it all the way from one end to the other. Anyway, in the short time I was gone, Hobart the Holiday Hedgehog had started an intense debate on religion with Emrys the Elephant (who currently practices Judaism, but was born into a family of Vodou practitioners). The fervor of the discussion was apparently fueled by the half pot of hazelnut espresso someone found in the kitchen. Upon my return to The Family Bed, I found Emrys, trunk knotted in three places, and Hobart wrestling on a table in the cafeteria. As Hobart stood atop the clearly distressed Emrys, the other Companions circled the table, chanting for Hobart to deliver “The People’s Elbow.” Clearly, the Companions had been watching more wrestling than I had realized – and I’m pretty certain Bachmann was responsible for that. He’s always mucking about in my Hulu account. By the time I was able to disperse the Companions and calm both Hobart and Emrys, it was late in the evening and I had not only missed my supper, but the Entertainment Tonight, as well, which is one of my favorite programs. I learn a great deal about dealing with fragile egos, emotions and personalities by observing celebrities in their natural habitat. It’s like a primate documentary with spray tans.
So, as I said, I try to stick pretty close to home. I’ve tried leaving one particular Companion in charge for the time I’ll be gone, but that never works out well. Invariably, whichever Companion is chosen quickly devolves into a power-hungry megalomaniac. For example, once, I left Marshall the Mammoth in charge. He’d had an especially productive week in therapy and was feeling quite relaxed and calm. I was only leaving the Bed for a few minutes to supervise the Daddy Dog as he transferred meat from the grill to the kitchen and I felt the responsibility would be a great confidence booster for Marshall. When I got back, Marshall was calling himself “Marshall Law.” He had moved all the ambulatory members of The Family Bed into the storm shelter and was wielding Breakfast in Bed Chewy like a club in the doorway, shouting “Remember the Alamo!” sigh
This morning, I had an important meeting with my Spirit Guide. She’s been working very hard for the past several months on getting me fitted for a prosthetic thumb and finger – her own invention – called The Do-Claw. She says I’m a perfect candidate and that the Do-Claw will allow me to provide even more for my Companions. I was gone for about a half hour. And when I returned, this was what greeted me:
Apparently, Bachmann began taunting Je m’appelle Claude about who is the better aquatic creature and fisticuffs ensued. Here, I’m told by Claude’s close friend and fellow crustacean, LeVergne the Lobster, that Claude is performing his signature move on Bachmann. It’s called the “Crab Rangoon,” and it appears to have been quite successful in getting that porky-mouthed beaver to shut his tree hole. For once.
