The Prince and the Platform Bed

Hey.  Island Boy got a ‘big boy’ bed.  His nights of intentional floor dorming are over.

In preparation for IB’s arrival, we turned our junk storage room guest room into a little boy’s bedroom.  When Running Girl and I decided that we had enough children our family was complete, we got rid of all of our child furnishings.  Oddly enough, I kept the kids’ toddler bed, disassembled up in the attic.  Weird — it’s almost like I knew that more fun was in store.

Anyhow, IB arrives home to Kay Nou last January and is shown his new sleep space.  The merits of the bed are explained to him — its plush, brand-spanking-new mattress; its comfy sheets and warm comforter; how its size is perfectly suited to his three-year old frame.  Most of all, the bed (and the ground below it) rarely move up and down, or side-to-side when you sleep in it at night.

Island Boy nods companionably.  He agrees that the his new li is very nice.  He states he likes it.

Then he goes to sleep on the floor.

No biggie, we figure.  He’s been sleeping on the ground since the earthquake.  He feels more comfortable that way.  This will pass in no time.

A few weeks later, we receive this:

MEMORANDUM

From:  Island Boy

To:  Running Girl & The Major

Re:  The Bed

——————————————————————————————————————————————————–

After attempting to use the above-referenced product on multiple occasions, I must regrettably inform you that I find it to be a pointless and somewhat frustrating experience.  While I am most indebted to you for the effort you have undertaken in my behalf, I am abstaining from further use of the aforementioned bed.

Your efforts to induce sleep in this widow-making device (albeit well-intentioned) are fruitless and somewhat irritating.  Kindly refrain from all future activities of this sort.

On a related topic, I will continue to summon you to my room in the middle of the night as often and for as I long as I deem necessary.  This policy shall remain in effect until further notice.

Yours,

Island Boy

All righty, then.

Fast forward eleven months.  Here we are.

“Enough is enough,” says The Iron Major.  “We’re ending this whole, ‘I’m gonna shout for you five times in the middle of the night because my feet are cold‘ nonsense.”  Can you feel his steely resolve?

TM & RG go on a bed-finding mission.  The locate and purchase one (1) mattress and one (1) box spring.  They next acquire a bed unit complete with a large headboard and drawers below.  The drawers will be perfect for holding IB’s underwear and socks which have previously been stored in a Halloween bucket next to his closet elsewhere.

At moderate risk to his spouse and young child, The Major drives home with the components for the new bed system in his SUV.  That afternoon, The Major and Subway Dude spend valuable bonding time assembling it.  For the record, SD kept his cool.  TM lost it while putting together the @#$%%^&&$ $@#$#%%#ing drawers.

The subject is now ready for a trial run in his new sleeping apparatus.  A mattress is borrowed from SD’s lair (top bunk) and inserted into place.

All systems are go.

Island Boy sleeps through the night.

There is great rejoicing in the village.  A fatted calf is slaughtered.  White men dance.

On Monday night a pickup truck pulls into the snowy driveway with IB’s mattress and box spring in the “bed” of the truck (bad pun intended).

The thick, plastic protective condoms are removed from these items in ritualistic fashion.  The two behemoths are dragged carried up to IB’s room.  They are placed on top of the platform bed.

While standing next to this set-up, the top of the bed is roughly even with Island Boy’s shoulder blades.  His attempts to climb into bed are akin to clumsy efforts at scaling the Matterhorn.

Once on top, Island Boy strongly resembles a fabled princess of yore:When instructed to stand up, Island Boy’s head is almost even with the blades of the room’s ceiling fan.  As they say in the Lone Star State, This dog ain’t gonna hunt.

Okay.  The box spring is a no-go.  Who knew that a platform bed doesn’t need a box spring?

Well, you probably did, dear reader.  But, our knowledge gap doesn’t make us bad people, does it?

So now IB spends his nights in his new ‘big boy’ bed sans box spring.  No lives have been lost.  Although we cannot return the box spring for a refund (alas, we removed the dreaded plastic wrapping), the owner of the bedding store promises “store credit” for his somewhat dim, yet well-intentioned customers.

A moment ago, I looked in on Island Boy.  He is sleeping in bed perpendicular to the mattress’ proper orientation.

Oh well, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

— The Major

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One response to this post.

  1. Posted by Eden on December 26, 2010 at 9:57 am

    Love it! Especially the memo, that’s my favorite. Congratulations and many sleepFULL nights to come!

    Reply

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