What's With the Rubber Sheet?

What's with the rubber sheet?

Hardly a question you hear every day, hmmm?

Slightly-Brit and I were taking a break from some heavy-duty decluttering. We stood back (sipped tea) and studied the piles we'd made: things we were going to toss, things we were going to take to the Association for the Blind thrift shop and things that were staying with us.

That's when SBD noticed the rubber sheet in the "staying" pile and asked: "What's with the rubber sheet?"

I knew she had it in for the rubber sheet, so I reminded her that this was the very same rubber sheet that I'd suggested we use under the artificial Second-Christmas tree (so the stand wouldn't scratch the lovely finish on the end table).

To bolster my rubber sheet defense I ended with: Everyone needs a rubber sheet!

Of course, Slightly-Brit reminded me that the rubber sheet in question had been absolutely worthless to us for protecting the end table, since it wasn't even wide enough to go across the (small) table. The rubber sheet is a flannel backed thing made for protecting a cradle mattress (cradle, mind you - not even crib. As in tiny.)

Still...I didn't want to get rid of it. It seemed like something that could come in real handy - even though I couldn't think of how. And even though it hadn't come out of its closet-home (except for that brief, worthless visit to the end table a few weeks ago) for, I don't know - maybe 20 years.

Jump forward a few days. I'm in line at the store, listening to my favorite chatty checkout-register gal. She's tossing my items into bags and somehow gets onto the subject of matches.

I never know what subject will come up. This particular conversation started with a discourse on the downfall of our local shopping area. The only givens are: my favorite register gal will talk a lot about the past - and there are usually a ton of siblings involved (whose names and attributes, it is assumed, are familiar to me).

The conversation ended for me (all I could think of was getting home to tell Slightly-Brit) when my favorite register gal told me how her family had been saved, aeons ago, from having their house burn down and the sibs quite possibly saved from death itself.

Little Norma (or Sally, or Debbie, or somebody I honestly don't know - though customers waiting behind me would undoubtedly guess I am quite familiar with) had gotten hold of some matches.

She was trying "to tell Mom, but Mom wasn't listening. I think she was pregnant with one of the other kids then. All of a sudden Uncle..." Frank or Jimmy or Otto or somebody got the idea that maybe something was up, looked at the pack of matches the sibling was waving - and toward where she was pointing frantically - and ohmyword, the kid had set fire to her bed.

According to my favorite register gal everyone lined up and did bucket brigade and put the fire out. What caught my attention (the bit I couldn't wait to tell Slightly-Brit) was that the reason the house didn't burn down before anybody realized it was on fire was:

- wait for it -

"the thing that saved us was the rubber sheet on her bed."

Aha! Just as I thought - everyone does need a rubber sheet!

4 Comments

Hi S-PK,

Fun post!

And great story material right there in the checkout line. I find all kinds of gems as I stand with my ears open in check-out lines. People waiting say the darndest things! I've often wondered what would make a good head covering in a fire, so this rubber sheet concept fascinates me. Think I'll get one ... Thx, Giulietta

Posted by: Giulietta the Muse | Thursday, 03 March 2011 at 03:07 PM

Well, Giulietta (the Muse) - maybe together we can make rubber sheets popular -lol.

I agree with you about the checkout line being a good source of material - I guess anywhere that people gather (I used to love airports for the same reason, but they're kind of restricted now).

Thanks for visiting!!

Posted by: Square-Peg Karen | Thursday, 03 March 2011 at 05:09 PM