I Wonder Why _______ Feels So Good?

For starters, our bed is old. Older than we are as a couple. It came with The Boy; he’d had it for at least two girlfriends before me. There was many an argument over its banishment from our collection when we married and our furniture joined forces. It symbolized the former, the no-longer, the past. Until I realized just how much a new one would cost.

It’s a crappy brand, the name of which I can’t even remember. The fabric is Pepto-Bismol pink with poorly-designed blue and green flora snaking across it.

It’s not a perfect fit … we have to put it up on wooden blocks (The Boy made them from scrap at work and we felt environmental and superior because we reclaimed our bed boosters instead of buying them at Linens’n Things). We must make very sure the cross-slats don’t move too far toward one side or the other or else one corner of the box spring will fall through the frame and possibly squash a cat. It’s also loud and very scary to experience when you’re in the bed and it falls.

The bottom where that gauzy, scratchy material covers the box spring is exposed because it ripped long ago and the cats would alternately chew the gauzy, scratchy material and climb through the rip to hide inside the box spring whenever the doorbell rang. So we had to cut it all off.

The sides of the box spring and the mattress are all picked—cats again the culprits. Those plastic handles on the sides are broken, so it’s a pain and a half to flip or move.

So why does our bed feel so good? I. Love. It. It’s always comfortable and always inviting and always there for me. I am one of those people who comes home from anywhere—a vacation, a visit with friends, Christmas with our families, house-/dog-sitting for one night at a location not five minutes from my house—and says, “[sigh] I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed.” Even if there’s no one in the vicinity to hear me say it, I must say it out loud.

We’ve talked off and on about getting a new bed and moving this bed into the second bedroom. We always chicken out. What if the new bed isn’t as … well, as perfect?

Our bed is awesome. It feels goooooooood. I wish I were in it right now.