He brings a hammer to bed because he sleeps on a bed of nails. Being a poor man, his bed of nails is at this point quite flimsy (a richer man would have a fresh bed, not a single nail askew). This poor man must hammer the nails into something resembling “level” lest he suffer sleep-depriving pokes-in-the-back (in his native land, they have a single word for pokes-in-the-back).
He brings a hammer to bed because he is a carpentry student and he has a big test tomorrow. He is also superstitious, and the destination of that hammer is to the underneath of his pillow. “Learning by osmosis,” explains this carpentry student, chagrined.
He brings a hammer to bed because it reminds him of the shriveled arm of his withered wife, recently deceased. He clutched that arm through good and through bad. He is devastated. The hammer is actually a crutch.
He brings a hammer to bed because he is a tramp sleeping in a public park. Swiped from the sidewalk display of a discount housewares store earlier that afternoon, he can finally sleep soundly, having acquired some measure of protection from the streets.
He brings a hammer to bed to impress his boyfriend. His boyfriend likes rustic knick-knacks. The man brings the hammer to bed, passes it over his curled-up boyfriend, and places it on the nightstand. They share a smile before pulling the lamp shut.
He brings a hammer to bed to remind himself of something he has to do in the morning. He has tried leaving notes to himself, writing on his palm, tying string around his index finger. This plan is fail-safe. He will sleep with the hammer on his belly, and when he awakes and shifts out of bed, the hammer will slip and fall onto his toe. What is this appointment he must remember? To see the podiatrist.
From the peanut gallery:
"Why did the man take a hammer to bed? To hit the sack. To hammer his actual bed. Probably all along the mattress and on the pillow and such. Also to hit the hay. His mattress is stuffed with hay. This takes place in 1785 and the setting is an English countryside. He values his hammer more than you or I could imagine. Forged in his own smithy, of no cheap iron, of fine maple wood. You might find his nightly ritual to be a strange one, but I assure you, it is common to its place and time."
Things you forgot you made.
A few minutes went by where underlines weren’t showing up in links on the dashboard. And just look, you brilliant things immediately started roleplaying the situation. We give you lemons, and you make lemonade, a lemon meringue pie, and an essay about what it means to be a lemon.
Anyway, all fixed now. Have a lovely weekend!
The staff is so weird
Better weird than boring and mundane and assholes