The Grinch Who Stole My Mattress
No, my husband is not Jim Carrey. He doesn’t have a shaggy, lime-green Grinch suit, but his insistence on taking away my Christmas comforts—all year comfort—has me cranky. Grinchy. In the mood to grouse, gripe, suspect everything, inspect and find shortcomings where none exist.
The man STOLE my mattress. You know when anyone says they just want to go home, they’re really talking about their bed. That’s their bed. Not some foreign thing that feels different, smells different, sleeps different—you get the idea.
But now, my pillow topped lovely bought at a Monkey Ward’s super sale—if you remember Montgomery Ward’s brick-and-mortar stores we should talk—is tossed out. Donated. (To whom I have no idea. Who would take a 27 year old mattress?)
The springy wonder where I bounced my babies and found countless hours of blessed end-of-the-day comfort is gone. Gone with the dust mites that likely called it home, too, but I’m a sharing person. No more pulling up the covers on old faithful and shinnying down to shut the world out for any of us.
Enter the Boll & Branch mattress. Hand-made. Organic cotton? There’s something like that in there. Endless layers of unknown substances—I don’t want to know—will now serve where my pillow top did just fine. Although their idea of California King doesn’t quite match the California Kings of old. Could be there are new sheets in the offing. It’s a conspiracy!!
My husband is buzzing with excitement. I should be too, right? You have to buy new sometime. And after nearly three decades of use, it was time. So why do I feel so bad? Resentful? Frustrated that my bed’s gone?
It’s not like I don’t have a place to sleep. I do. And it’s supposed to be fantastic. (It probably will be after the separation anxiety wears off. And here I thought I was a low maintenance person. LoL.)
First world problems are the worst. Reason being you feel like an idiot on top of having whatever issue you’re letting ruin your day—typically a non-issue. Sometimes you’re upset about something that should—and will—make you very happy.
That’s what I’m doing. Making something out of nothing. It’s just a mattress. It’s. A. NEW. Mattress. Time to own my inner Grinch and then let him go. I’ll sleep better.