Remember when Wade and Brian played Indiana Jones while we were out for the evening, and Marie, the teen-aged babysitter, stayed with them?
I’m not exactly sure what transpired that evening, but from what I was told when I got home and saw the disaster area was that Wade and Brian convinced Marie to let them play Indiana Jones in our basement family room. Part of the game included a leap from the top step of the basement stairs down to the floor below. Marie convinced them that this might be a little dangerous, so she and the boys decided to put the large green beanbag chair at the base of the stairs to cushion their jump. I don’t know how many jumps it took, or whether it was the first one that did the trick. That was a detail of the game that wasn’t a vital element of the story. Thankfully, nobody was hurt. However, the beanbag chair was mortally injured when it exploded upon impact with one of the Hampton boys.
Marie met us at the door when we returned home, pale and shamefaced, and tumbling over her words to reassure us that everyone was ok. Reluctantly, she led the way to the basement stairs to let us see for ourselves what our sons had done. The room was covered with white plastic “beans”, still holding a static electric charge and clinging to the walls, the furniture, the ceiling, everything. It looked like it had snowed in the family room. Wade and Brian were cowering on the sofa waiting for the bomb to drop. As the story unfolded, we learned that they had tried to sweep up the mess, but the beans wouldn’t cooperate with all the static electricity they were producing. They then tried the vacuum cleaner, but its hose had clogged up, and they didn’t want to get into more trouble by burning up the vacuum. All they could do was wait for us to come home, both of them covered with clinging bean bag pellets, and poor Marie wondering if we would ever let her babysit again, or, worse yet, if she would get paid for watching them on this evening. Even the dogs, Shaggy and Dusty, had beans clinging to their fur.
We were finding bean bag beans for months in every nook and cranny of the family room. And, when we moved, I’m sure we left a few behind.
I only wish I could have been there to see it when it happened.