Rule 146: The odds of choosing a new bed for one’s daughter that The Husband will be happy with while he sleeps (because he works midnights) is directly proportional to the minutes one spends second guessing themselves.
Sample equation: One spends 45 minutes debating getting a design different than the one discussed with said Husband while he was awake. How many minutes will The Husband bitch upon waking?
Answer: 45 minutes.
I’ve been putting off this trip to Ikea for months now. Not because I don’t like to shop, mind you, but because of Pauline’s Law of Physics: Rule 391 which states that the amount of the final bill will ultimately depend on the distance driven to the shopping destination in question.) We drive two hours to Ikea, which means the entire two hour drive home is usually spent trying to figure out some creative checking account balancing and trying to get through to the FBI to find out if they have any openings in their Witness Protection Program because The Husband is going to kill me if he ever finds the receipt.
This particular trip was for four items: a bed for my sister, a bed for Buttercup, and two media stands. We left with a minivan busting at the seems and barely any room for the kid, and a complete bed set for that I can only hope magically morphs Buttercup into a Big Girl Who Likes to Sleep Alone.
“Why the hell did you get an extendable bed frame?” The Husband grumbled as I pouted. “We’ve been talking about getting her a regular twin for months now.”
“This is the one she liked,” I lied. She really had liked one that was three times more and two feet higher off of the ground, but I wasn’t about to spend money on a bed that would require bed rails since that is exactly why Buttercup hates her toddler bed and currently sleeps on the floor.After she falls asleep with me next to her, that is. Which is when I sneak out. Until she calls for me in the middle of the night, I mean. At that point, whether I end up on the floor with her or she ends up in my bed depends on how tired I am and the number of functioning brain cells available.
Besides, I kind of liked the idea of a Goldilocks bed for my kid; Just perfect now and just perfect later since it will grow with her. to be fair though, I did spend just about forever making up my mind and was sincerely hoping The Husband would approve of my choice.
“So we spent $70 more so she could get the bed she wanted? And how the hell are you sleeping with her on something three feet long?”
Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.
“It’s made to hold adults, and I can curl up with her just fine on it so she can fall asleep.” I sighed again. “I was really hoping you were going to like the bed I picked.” That’s when I had an Ah-ha! moment. And it was probably going to get me out of the dog house and shut The Husband up, which would be nice. “Besides, the bed you liked online was sold out in the store. No, I’m not making that up. And the one I picked is pretty much the same thing, only it starts out kiddie length and extends to full twin length.”
He looks at me, an eyebrow raised. I can hear his thoughts, loud as the words just being spoken.”And you made me waste breath on an argument? Why didn’t you just tell me the bed I liked was sold out to begin with?” Out loud he only says, “Well, damn. You could’ve just said so.”
Really?
