So, here’s the deal: we bought a new bed.
Well, it wasn’t actually a “new” bed but it was new to us. It’s a four-poster rice bed found at a consignment shop. We waited until price dropped even more to make the purchase.
We also waited until The Duppster measured to see that our box springs and mattress would fit, since we had a king bed but were buying a California king. He said they would. He measured and assured me they would work.
Guess what? We got the bed home and the box springs wouldn’t fit into the space on the used/new bed.
This was a Sunday night so there wasn’t much we could do, other than sleep on the floor or sofa.
On Monday I bought box springs (Dupp said the mattress would definitely fit) and they were to be delivered on Tuesday, which meant one more night of alternative sleeping arrangements. Or “non-sleeping” arrangements.
Box springs were delivered Tuesday morning but they weren’t the size I ordered. The delivery guys took ‘em back.
When I called to get the correct ones delivered, the lady on the phone said I’d get a call to schedule delivery within 48 hours. Forty-eight more hours??? By the end of 48 hours, we hadn’t gotten that call.
In the meantime, I suggested to Dupp that it might be more comfortable (than the floor) if we’d put the old box springs sideways across the bed frame and then put the mattress on top, that, too, going crossways.
Dupp did just that, bless his pea-picking, Yankee-moved-South heart. The bed looked odd but was certainly better for sleeping – for a while.
I got up in the middle of the night to, um, answer nature’s call. When I got back, I couldn’t get up into the bed. It was too high. Or I was too short. I couldn’t even get a knee up on the mattress to help pull me into the bed.
I didn’t want to wake up The Duppster, so I went into our office to work for a while. After an hour or so, I got sleepy, went back to the bedroom and tried again. No luck.
I got down on the floor to try to sleep. Before long, I heard Dupp moving, so I quietly asked, “Are you getting up?”
He groggily mumbled, “What?”
I asked if he was getting up to go to the bathroom. He replied, “Where ARE you?”I told him I was on the floor, that I hadn’t been able to get up in the bed and needed his help.
For the next 15 to 20 minutes, I laughed or giggled uncontrollably. I couldn’t stop.
Hey, I told him I thought marriage should be fun!
And, by the way, he had measured the mattress, which did fit. He just hadn't measured the box springs.