Readers may remember the excitement generated in the Cosy Apartment when, in late September, I purchased a new heated mattress pad. They may also recall that the pad has ten settings, the lowest of which is adequate for my comfort on cold nights, though when I had the chills a couple of weeks ago, setting number two was required, though not for long.
Keep this in mind, then, when I relate how, while sleeping peacefully during the weekend, I woke with a start in the darkest of hours. I was suffocating. It was as if I had been rolled in a great swath of hot, damp cotton, and locked in a trunk. I struggled to consciousness, and found myself awash in exuded perspiration.
Breathing like a man newly breaching the surface of a drowning sea, I pulled myself into a sitting position and turned on the nightstand lamp. The mattress felt as if it were being swallowed in a spate of lava. I looked at the mattress-pad controller and saw that it had been set to ‘five’. Earlier in the night, I had turned the pad on and, not having adjusted the setting priorly, assumed it was at ‘one’, at which I habitually leave it.
Recovering my breath, I had to dry myself with a towel, as though I had stepped seconds before from the shower. The sheets were soaked, and had to be changed. How could the mattress-pad have reached such dangerous temperatures?
Then, I remembered Oleo and Bisto - in particular, the former - had jumped from the bed onto the nightstand, and had rummaged about like a bargain-hunter at a flea market. He had clearly disarranged my mattress-pad controller - to be generous, I will write that it was inadvertent - knocking the dial up to setting ‘five’, which is labelled ‘Pompeii’. It could have been worse: the highest setting is labelled ‘The crematorium called; they’re upset at the competition’.
If there was a consolation to this episode, it was that I was so exhausted by my efforts to revive myself that I slept deeply afterward. After making sure the Felons were locked away in the library.
Never a dull moment - if you regain consciousness.
ReplyDelete:-)
DeletePerhaps they wanted to check that your mattress pad is working properly. After all, you never know when you'll be visiting Santa at the North Pole. (It is the Christmas season, after all!) :-)
ReplyDeleteSo here begs the question, will you attempt a Christmas tree with
ReplyDeletethese felons on the loose? Will they make moves on the tree lights,
as your temp control on the pad? Ah, what a warm cozy life you all
have as winter descends. You won't need to run any extra heaters.
Firstly, this was just the entertaining post I needed to read, after a long and crazy work day.
ReplyDeleteSecondly, I'm glad you didn't sustain any burns.
Thirdly, now you understand what night sweats are like for menopausal women. 🤣
Ah, but think of the death certificate you could have had: “Roasted alive by kittens.”
ReplyDelete:-)
DeleteThat is funny. They are naughty. :)
ReplyDeleteWhat a way to go!
ReplyDeleteHowever, I know the feeling of awakening due to overheating...when Sweetie sleeps on my chest, her body warms be better than 10 hot water bottles!
I'm almost laughing too hard to type. Your descriptions are absolutely hilarious! Have you ever thought of writing a book of your experiences with the cats? You really should.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the laugh, take care and stay well....or cool. :)
Cheeky kittens. My electric blanket has a 75 minute setting, so that you can have it on when you go to bed and then it switches itself off.
ReplyDeleteThey are naughty boys!
ReplyDeleteNow you know what it feels like to be a lady of a certain age!
HaHa! Bless!xx
ReplyDeleteWhat ever you do John..Don't let them
anywhere near the cooker..! :(
I swear, I laughed out loud and startled Katie! I loved reading the comments too! Yes, your little miscreants bear watching!! But if you watch them, where's OUR entertainment (albeit at your expense)?
ReplyDeleteI loved Katie's comment! The felons are certainly mischievous. The pic with them by their bowl really shows how fast they are growing!
ReplyDeleteJ; this isn't funny; { having lived with a firefighter all my years and hearing the horror stories my dad related } but I'm CRACKING UP; not so much at the "situation" and I do hope there's a safety shut off switch located on the device, but your verbiage in this post is second to none...I'm guessing setting 11 is...hell ♥♥☺☺
ReplyDeleteAmen on #11
DeleteThey sure are inventive little enemies of the state. Our Rumpy learned to turn on a light on the ceiling fan in the bedroom. It has a long beaded chain hanging down and he would leap up and turn it on because it was breakfast time. Ah that was an interesting summer as I kept it on to cool the room
ReplyDelete