So, the new bed finally arrived.
After weeks of a cronky back and years of this giant sprawling across most of my bedroom, on the last day of the Christmas holiday I finally took the plunge and bought a new one.
As soon as I got home from the bed shop – in which I had to ask the salesman to leave me alone whilst I made various starfish and snow angel shapes, and faked tossing and turning on every bed they had – I knew I had made a mistake: apart from the extra storage the drawers would give me, and perhaps a few inches of extra floor space, I realised I would need a new headboard and bed clothes. And my cronky back was probably more to do with wearing 5 inch stilettos every day.
Waiting for the delivery men on Saturday morning I decided that my old bed wasn’t even a kingsize and the whole thing was just a waste of money. The delivery men were very professional and quickly assembled the new bed whilst I collected all the cardboard and plastic wrapping for the recycling. And then they left. And I started to make the new bed up.
First the sheet … and, hang on, this feels a bit odd … and then the duvet … there is definitely something different here … and then … Oh my god! How feckin high is this?!?!!?
Well for a start, it was so high I couldn’t actually ‘sit’ on it! The only way I could get my little fat bum up on it was by standing on tip-toe and jerking myself backwards up to it!! How could this have happened? I didn’t have to do this in the shop! Was this actually the bed I had ordered? What on earth had I been thinking? And then I realised: in the shop I had been wearing my 5 inch stilettos!
Later that night I had to adopt a weird hurdling-like shape with my right knee and actually climb on to the bloody thing! Once ‘up there’ the ceiling seemed to have moved down to meet me and the glaze on the wall-mounted LCD tv had now disappeared! When I had a mad sneezing fit at three in the morning and had to get out of /off it to get some tissue from the bathroom, I had to dangle my legs down the side and then slide down it (think inside-out abseiling without the safety gear) until my feet found the floor. Except that I didn’t quite get that far – for just as I was about to ‘go over’ another huge sneeze propelled first my head and then the rest of my body forward and across the room straight into a glass-doored bookcase! About one inch away from killing myself by slashing some important vein and ending up looking like some bizarre murder victim!
And although this may not be one of the most hilarious stores ever recounted it is just the kind of thing a certain Mr Tony Zaidel would have loved to take the piss about. So I dedicate my latest ‘You just couldn’t make it up’ to him.
He’d have liked this one too: Shopping list for E. today: foil, olive oil, fish food and Clipper Organic tea bags.
Get home from work. Need cuppa. Boil kettle, place newly purchased teabag in mug. Pour water over teabag. Water turns green. “Emma, my tea is green.” “What do you mean ‘green’?” “It’s green. The water is green.” “It’s what?” “It’s green!” Brain kicks in. “You’ve bought green tea!” “What’s green tea?”