The Teddy Toss Night - edit Nov13, 2024
Before I turned ten, we moved into a long and chilly house that was supposedly built for hens but became a people house instead. Too cold for chickens maybe? We called it the Hen House. Half of it was made suitable for people, and when we lived there, the other half was a huge off limits storage space. Our few years' stay in this long and narrow Hen House home holds unusual memories. Like the almost forbidden kid size door that led from our bedroom to the very longer storage space! There, hanging among the owner's seemingly discarded furniture, half opened boxes and dust, the rafters sported an irresistible swing. Another memory from this back room was the fascinating horror of seeing donated deer carcasses drip back there during that winter of no work. Looking back, maybe having a Winter where six of us squished together in a small cold space was the inspiration for Dad to go on the search for our first second hand TV. The following is my sweetest memory of us in that huge bedroom; an indoor space that was so cold that it required its own little stove they called a jacket heater. And a Dad that laid awake all night to man it safely.
 
Never before had our parents' bed been dragged into the kids' bedroom. For at least one Winter in that Hen House, it sat in the far end of our room with something curtain-like strung in between. On the coldest of nights, we were only warm under our woollen blankets and quilts when there was a fire going in the little jacket heater that graced the bedroom. Our parents were always super anxious about fires, so on such nights, Dad simply stayed awake. During the Winter of 1958, there was no work to go to in the morning anyway. With Mom and Dad so close by, I felt safe; plus, I was somewhat enthralled to be in a storybook like dorm, curtains and all. My poor parents. I can only imagine that the fabric stretched across their end of the room provided little more than the pretense of privacy.
 
During that dorm winter, with the four of us ??kids entertaining ourselves with crawling through and jumping into our makeshift blanket tunnels and forts, we were apparently always just one knot away from strangling someone. Between the high head and foot boards of our iron bed frames, we tied bed covers, towels, sweaters and towels. When we got so wild that we were one crash landing away from crushing 'Babes', our four year old brother, Mom would send Dad in to help us 'tole the mark??? things back to order. Sometimes, Dad's tuck ins were just that and if our oldest brother was into winding his way through one of his wonderfully long stories, Dad would simply smile along and listen. Or, like only he could, Dad could settle us to sleep with his version of heroic fairy and Bible stories - with whales included. There'd be words of wisdom woven in - like behave for your Mother or the more sobering stop fighting because the four of us had all come from the same place, Mom's womb. On coldest nights, Dad would then often offer to feet-walk us to the bathroom and back for our one last pee. 
Nice memories, yes, but my all time favourite tuck ins had Dad warning us to be quiet while he was holding a 'hanging on a cord light bulb' under his chin in the otherwise unlit bedroom. With his lit up face poking out of the darkness at the side of the curtain, he'd grin his silliest, ugliest and even scariest faces for us. We'd be bursting to keep our giggles in, almost. We loved it, especially when Mom would scold us all with, "Dougald, you're as bad as the kids." Yeah. We were a team. Little did we know that he and Mom would later chuckle quietly over our attempts to stifle our giggles.
 
Topping off the safety of Dad's fire watch, all the stories, tuck ins, grins and placing our bare feet on top of his and our hands in his so we could 'feet walk' over the icy floor, there sits a most precious night - The Teddy Toss Night. It was late. Mom was cranky tired, really. After she really scolded us all, Dad included, for real, we wordlessly disassembled our forts and pretended to sleep while they slipped wordlessly under their own bed covers.

 Suddenly, the side of the curtain moved. With his shush finger in front of the night's funniest face, Dad was there. We'd be warned, we'd been silenced, but all was good - Dad was still playing. Before he got to a second face though, Mom growled her most angry, 'You too, Dougald.' Time was up. The light and Dad disappeared. 
 
Into this silence, something on our side of the semi darkness moved and Babe's sizable beloved 'Teddy' bear was biffed perfectly - straight up from the floor - like it had moved itself. In slow motion, Teddy sailed brazenly close to the hot stove, but unsinged and feet first, he continued his curve up and over the curtain. 
In the loudest muffled 'piff' I've ever heard, Teddy landed right in Mom and Dad's bed. We had done it - we had finally gone too far. The silence itself froze - Teddy had entered another world. Back then, Mom and Dad's bed was still a sacrosanct space that as a kid in those days, I hadn't yet grasped why.
 
So focussed was I on Teddy's intrusion and Babe's horrified wide eyes and mouth, that I missed seeing which other brother had sneaked back under the covers. We dared not breathe, let alone move. Suddenly and amazingly, Mom's full beautiful laughter burst the frozen moment. Every time we were laughed out, worn out, and finally settling into sleep, another muffled giggle escaped from Mom. From all sides, beds and curtains, we belly laughed all over again and again. Especially my middle brother - the Teddy tosser, maybe? What a night. 

My last memories of that freezing night are of Dad checking the fire and of a new appreciation for this little four year old brother. With his arms snuggled around his beloved Teddy, he was always extra warm:) Even though I could only steal this warmth if I put up with his sweet little four year old self rolling down to my weight in our