Brown Spots In Your Bed

This morning I walked in to my boss’ office with my co-worker to meet with our boss.  Just like we do every morning.  On the desk were three boxes of candy.  She encouraged us to help ourselves.  I opened the Whoppers and set the Milk Duds aside and told them to remind me to tell them a story about the Milk Duds.

We forgot about them.

Then, later in the day  I read a story about Milk Duds.

I was a little surprised.  It’s not every day that I see or even think about Milk Duds, or read stories about them.  Apparently I am suppose to think about Milk Duds today.   That’s my interpretation so it’s what you all get to read about today.


You’re welcome.

Years ago my father owned business(es).   I can’t even tell you for sure what this business in this memory  was.  I think it was a “bar”.   For some of you that may mean “tavern” or “pub”.   In the back was a room that I don’t remember as being very populated with stuff.  But I remember it being cool or cold outside.  I remember my brothers being in there with me.  I won’t rat out which two brothers who look an awful lot alike were there.

But they were there and so was I.   Along with a very hot, red hot in my memory, kettle or furnace or pot belly stove.   It was something.  And it was stinking hot.  I remember this.  I also remember there were “things” there.   An iron or metal of some kind rod lying in or on the red hot thing.

I also remember one of my brothers picking up the end of the rod not in or on the red hot thing.  The next thing I know the thing that was hot from being in or on the red hot thing was on my knee.

I know, right?  Brothers.

I know I screamed.  Back then I could scream like a girl.  I remember we must have been in a lower than ground level room because I remember seeing someone’s legs through the window and then a face.

I am pretty sure my brothers weren’t trying to kill me.  Or even hurt me.  We were pretty young.   And apparently two of them were pretty stupid.

I don’t remember a lot after that.  Until I was home.  I remember having a white handkerchief thing in a triangle shape around my knee.   I remember my dad coming in and putting a box of Milk Duds in my hands.

I remember waking up in the morning and holding the Milk Duds box.  It was empty.  I was sad.   I don’t know for sure but I probably suspected my brothers of coming in and taking my Milk Duds.  Why not?  They put fire on my knee.  Buttheads.

I pushed myself up to sitting in my bed.  I was on the top bunk.  And all over my bed were these big, flat, gross brown spots.

I did not test them for sure.

But I’m pretty sure my brothers did not take my Milk Duds.

Though all these years later I wish I had peeled them off and stuck them on the back of their pants.





*Thank you .  You’re story was extra sweet and made me think back to a very sweet treat from my dad.  Gone awry.  But sweet none the less.