Papa's Got a Brand New Bed

No doubt the regular readers of this blog have one question: What happened to your bed? As you may recall, Ellie decided we need a new bed since years of resting on an ancient set of box springs transformed our old mattress from comfy to lumpy. Under normal circumstances, I’d simply laugh if Ellie suggested we spend a few hundred dollars on a new bed; we have more important things* to spend money on. Ellie would in turn respond by spending a couple hundred dollars at the mall, giving both of us the satisfaction of kind of getting our way. That’s called compromise, and you might want to remember it because it’s the secret to a marriage that’s almost lasted long enough to bring three children into the world. In one of life great ironies, right up there with Marc Antony claiming to bury Caesar instead of praising him, or Alanis Morissette performing a song titled “Ironic” that doesn’t actually have any irony in it, the twins are simultaneously the source of our impending fiscal black hole for which we every spare cent must be devoted, and the impetus for Ellie needing a semi-extravagant purchase of a new bed. As much as enjoy squirreling money away for future needs like nuts being stored by a, um, squirrel, Ellie is the mother of my children, and is therefore entitled to all of the extravagance necessary to keep her upright and working.

Ellie did the nice thing and decided she wanted one of the beds we saw at an outlet store. This bed was about two-thirds the price of the comparable beds from the fancy stores that waste their money on luxuries like multiple sales personnel, adequate lighting, and insect control. It could be even cheaper depending on how serious they were when they claimed to be flexible with the price. Her biggest concern with it was she thought it might be too soft for me and my firm mattress preference. While Ellie tried it out in the store, I was too busy corralling Abbie and preventing her from chewing on the floor displays to lie down, so I missed my chance to feel it. When she told me we could save enough money on the bed to buy the nicest Pack ‘n Play made, the kind God would use for His baby’s sleeping quarters if He lived in a really small house, I decided to buy it as long as I could tolerate it in the store.

Abbie and I ventured to the furniture store alone because mommy had to work and she wanted her bed now. I found our target and waited for the lone salesman to work his way over to us. Once I verified that this was the bed Ellie wanted, I set my awesome bartering skills to work:

Me: How much is this bed?
Salesperson: $X
Me: We were in here earlier and they said you were flexible with the price. Is that still true?
Salesperson: Yep.
Me: Will you take $Y?
Salesperson: Yep.

Obviously I should have thrown out $Z as a starting price, but we got our bed. That night while Ellie was still at work, I picked up the new bed, set it up in our bedroom, and disposed of the old bed (stacked it in our living room) by myself. It was hard work, but I figured I needed to do something special for her, especially after saying that she spends a couple hundred at the mall when I say we can’t afford something even more expensive when I know very well that she never spends nearly that much and she only buys clothes which she needs, especially maternity clothes, because she rarely buys clothes anymore. We’ve slept on it for a week now, and Ellie’s random pains are gone. After an adjustment period of a couple days where I barely slept, which I blame more on the allergies than the bed, I like it as much as the old bed. I know the cats like it too because they pooped all over it the first morning we had. They’re not allowed in the bedroom anymore. Fortunately I noticed it quickly, or at least noticed that the dog had noticed it quickly, so the only thing they ruined was the sheets. Even after buying new sheets, we still saved enough money to buy God’s Pack ‘n Play.

* Two of them in fact.