so i have two things i want to discuss at this time. it’s concerning marraige beds, and something else that i can’t remember. seriously. i just remember being in the car, on the way home from the city today, and thinking “i want to talk about this, and this. huh…they have nothing in common.” one of those being my bed, and the other….well, maybe if i get the bed thing out of the way, then i’ll remember the rest.
AHHH! i remember. “when i learned that stealing is BAD.” heh. i’ll get to that one in a minute.
so, soon after our wedding, my husband and i bought a bed. it was sort of our gift to ourselves, since we didn’t get the traditional bride and grooms gifts. it’s a beautiful bed. a very large, solid some-sort-of pretty wood. it’s dark, that’s all i know. so the headboard is gorgeous…and huge. when we bought my bed, it had legs on it, and rose up enough that we could use under the bed as storage. (no wasted space in my house!) when we moved from TN to MO, we got an apartment. we had to cock the headboard sideways to fit it through the apartment door, and STILL managed to knock off one of the decorative posts. luckily, a little gorilla glue later it looked as good as new.
exactly one year later, we bought our first house. the house was a lovely fixer-upper. built over 100 years ago, the wood trim in the house was gorgeous, it had fantastic wood floors that would be amazing after a good sand-n-polish, and it was big enough for our family, with 2 stories.
when we went to move our bed up to our bedroom, the headboard got stuck in the stairwell. we wiggled and shoved and grunted and groaned and broke holes in the ancient horsehair plaster trying to get that damn headboard up the stairs for two whole days. as a last resort, we had to cut the legs off, and shorten the whole thing about 6 inches. we also had to take part of the headboard off, like a puzzle. luckily, it went back together with no problems, but the legs are a different story. you can’t even tell that it used to have legs, and actually, the bed is much less imposing now that it’s closer to the ground, but those two days it spent in the stairwell were quite humorous. and scary, if you just happened to look up while you were climbing the stairs to the bathroom.
this bed has a lot of history with us, but ultimately, it’s just a bed. and it’s a damn HUGE bed. so in our effort to slough off the dead weight in our lives, and trim things down to practicality, we are thinking about selling it. i mean c’mon…it’s a king size bed that belongs in the million dollar mansions, not our tiny rental house. we want to downsize to a queen size…we need a new mattress anyways. when we moved to MILs house, it flew out of the back of J’s truck, and bounced down the highway…it ain’t never been the same since…
J mentioned today that his mom offered to buy our bed from us. i’m not exactly sure what it is, but the idea of her in my bed just raises my hackles. if we’re going to sell our marraige bed, i want it to be to some random joe schmoe who pays the asking price. i don’t even want to have to look at it again. i want to forget and move on. what i DON’T want, is to think about MIL and McCreepy doing the nasty on MY marraige bed.
yuck.
also, i’ve been out and about all day today. we went back to the rental house to take measurements to see what will fit, and so i could get another look at it to start getting ideas for paint.
to close off our day, we went to target, where i picked up a few odds and ends, and some Mike’s Hard Lime. i am going to feed my baby, put her to bed, and sit on the couch with a bag of trail mix and Mike’s, and watch Chuck. it’s the perfect end to a stressful day.
so while we were at target, there was quite a fuss at the exit…apparently (according to our cash register) some guy was trying to steal a bottle of vodka, and got violent when he was called on it. as we walked out through the entrance doors (the exit doors were barricaded by shopping carts and red shirted employees chatting on walkie-talkies) i glanced down. to my surprise, there was some guy face down on the floor with his hands cuffed behind his back. naturally, being a mom, i used that moment as a lesson for my son. “see what happens when people try to steal?” heh. i don’t think my son will ever forget seeing that man like that on the floor.
i say that because, i still remember the time i learned second hand the consequences of stealing. i was about my son’s age, and as my mother and i were driving out of the parking lot of the grocery store, and guy shot like a bullet out the front door, with an employee hot on his tail. the employee caught up to him and when he grabbed his jacket, candy bars tumbled out onto the road.
of course, being a kid the only thing i see really clearly in my head 20 years later is the candy bars strewn all over the street. (holy cow what did he need all that chocolate for???) but it stuck with me, and i never wanted to be run down or humiliated like that. it’s a powerful thing…seeing someone despised, humiliated, and hurt like that for becoming a criminal.
just another day, just another lesson learned.
it worked! 3 eggs w/cars in them, 1 chocolate bunny, a stuffed bunny holding a soccerball, and some chick shaped sidewalk chalk. of course, MIL had to get him a scooter (one of those things that looks like a skateboard with handles) and a light saber bubble wand. K actually said to me at one point “Grandma got me something for Easter, how come you and daddy didn’t?” i told him that daddy and i got him the sidewalk chalk for his basket, and the easter bunny filled the rest of his basket up. he nodded sagely, and seemed perfectly content with that explanation. 
