I Married a Dentist, Part 3: Fixing the Waterbed

Welcome back to the adventure of stories from true life that you just can't make up.

Bartlow Domesticus in its king sized water bed habitat

Back in the day, Kathi and I had a king-sized full flotation (non-baffled) water bed.  You had to get used to it, since a movement by one affected the other.  You also had to have training on how to get OUT of the thing since it involved placing knees and grabbing sideboards and so forth to fling yourself out.  By the way, this also reminds me of the story of Greg, a buddy of mine from work, who had the same situation.  His problem was that he was about 98 pounds soaking wet.  His wife was a "full figure big boned" gal and happened to be pregnant (Careful now).  Anyway, one night, she got a cramp in her backside, threw herself up in the air in agony, and when she came down she produced such a tidal wave that it flung poor Greg out of the bed and we woke up face down kissing the carpet.  There's a word picture for you.
Well, anyway, I digress from the story.  Having a water bed ourselves we were well versed in water bed care (you know, put the anti fungus stuff in the water so you didn't grow your own back yard swimming pool type funk an so forth).  As part of that process, one could purchase a kit for about $5 at that time that would fix a hole in the bladder (never really got used to the idea of sleeping on a bladder especially when the heater quit and it was a COLD bladder).  It consisted of some glue and a patch and worked very well.  Anyone who had one of those knew of the disagreeable morning when you woke up with a wet foot, backside, or similar from a leak.
Anyway, we were at the Williams ranch in Broken Arrow one year and very kindly we were given the privilege of mom and Don's water bed.  That was nice since we were used to sleeping in one and that would be pleasant.  So come bedtime Kathi and I piled into the bed and proceeded to go off to sleepy land.  Pretty soon my self-serving bride woke me up complaining of a wet foot.  "No big deal, go back to sleep" I say.  "Not happenin'", says she.   So we get up, pull off the covers, and find there is a hole but is HAS been patched.  Just not with the normal patch kit.  After all, if duct tape worked in other applications, why not to fix a waterbed?  It must've worked for awhile (or possibly the patch had been changed out numerous times knowing Don's track record).
I don't remember how we made it through the night but you can guess Mrs "We're doing it right!" wasn't going to let it stay that way and we made a trip to the Wally World to get the proper kit and fixed it proper.  As time went by, the fad of water beds gave way to baffled water beds, then air beds and as of this writing, mom and Don's as well as our water beds are just a memory.  I always thought blown up with air they would have made a good sled in winter and a good raft in the summer.  Oh well.
You just can't make up stories like this-it has to be true.  
Come back soon and see me for another story.  Leave a comment if you have memories of the same things.
Soli Deo Gloria.