We broke down and bought a new mattress and box springs.
Now, to get into bed I must run, jump and lunge.
Our new mattress and box springs sit at least 6 inches higher than our old ones. Unfortunately, I have not had a corresponding 6-inch growth spurt.
Progress is often marked by making things larger – bigger big-screen televisions, higher high-rise buildings, larger large homes and ever-more expansive hotels.
I wonder if someone thought adding height to beds was a mark of progress, too.
If that’s the case, I bet that someone was 7-feet tall.
I suspected some of the family thought I was exaggerating about the situation, so I had them look at the bed themselves. A half dozen or so of us were standing around the bed like you’d stand around a shiny new car someone just drove home from a dealership.
But nobody kicked the tires or looked under the hood. One of the sons-in-law said, “Wow, that is high.” This coming from a fella who loves playing basketball because he can make rim shots.
“Tell me again how you get in,” one of the girls said.
“I start a slow jog at the door, build momentum, jump by the side of the bed, twist and land. I throw both arms in the air as I land for a sort of gymnast effect.”
Someone suggested getting a step stool. I’d thought about that, too. But what about getting out of bed? What if you forget there’s a little step stool below your feet, trip over it, pitch forward, knock yourself unconscious and dislocate your shoulder? How is that part of a good night’s sleep?
I don’t mind doing a run, jump and lunge now, but what about 15 years from now? Will I still want to be running, jumping and lunging?
I called the salesperson about the dilemma. She chuckled, said it was a frequent concern and that all we needed to do was lower our bedframe.
We have a four-poster bed nearly 100 years old. To lower it, we’d have to saw off the hand-turned wooden legs.
I then mentioned that the mattress is a lot harder than the mattress was at the store. Like cement block hard.
“Do you have children?” she asked.
“We have children and grandchildren,” I said.
“Have them walk on it.”
“The new hybrid beds with memory foam can be loosened up if you walk on them. Have the kids take off their shoes and socks and walk all over your bed.”
She was a nice lady and switched out the box springs for one half as deep. I no longer do the run, lunge, jump to get into bed. She also said if we didn’t like the mattress, we had 60 days to exchange it.
The exchange will be easy.
The hard part will be telling the grandkids they are no longer welcome to walk on the bed. In the meantime, I’m enjoying my new moniker of “Most Fun Grandma.”