Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Our Posh Bedroom

We all knew it had to happen. Eventually. Sooner or later our bedroom furniture had to be replaced. I actually had envisioned it dying a painful death on a future PCS; perhaps splintered into oblivion in the bottom of a shipping crate; perhaps packed securely into a crate that fell into the Atlantic.

Sturdy, waterbed, particle board furniture. How many PCS's would it take to totally take it out? We've often wondered. Apparently, the number is more than 8. Eight PCS's (& umpteen years) only scratch, mangle, water damage & otherwise mutilate the compressed saw dust. Would it have taken 9, 10, 12? The world may never know. We gave it away, and amazingly enough, didn't have to pay someone to take it off our hands.

Here's a reminder of what was removed from the honeymoon suite:




span>


However, as of last week, the aforementioned furniture is (thankfully) no more than a distant memory (for us - some other sucker is now in possession). Man and I no longer hold the title of Owners of America's (or Belgium's or Germany's) Trashiest-Tackiest Bedroom Furniture. As a matter of fact, we may have surpassed all of you and now have the classiest boudoir on the block.

All thanks to a "for sale" ad in our local paper, we now have 6 pieces of solid wood, beautifully stained, king-sized, sleigh bedroom furnishings. Very posh. Tres cher.

The night we got it all set up, I was ready with freshly laundered sheets. Every inch of the 500-thread count was smelling of Downy freshness. With the bed made to wrinkle-free perfection at 8pm (who makes a bed at bedtime anyway?!), I even drug out the Czech crystal candle holders - because, now crystal actually looks like it might belong in the bedroom. Real wood, crystal and candlelight . . .


Darn it. New bedroom, clean sheets, Yankee candlelight, ambience. I felt, but stubbornly resisted, the overwhelming urge to take a bath and shave my legs. Come on, this is not stubbly-leg bedroom furniture, people. This is prim & proper, Bree Van de Kamp Hodge kind of decor. It takes a while for one to adjust.

OK, it doesn't take that long. I slept like a baby that night (thank you Benadryl & Spaetlese). But, for the official record, I did bathe and shave the following night.

The end of last week was busy, then we popped on over to Dublin for the weekend. Some how, we never got around to Christening the new-to-us bedroom set (I prefer not to think about its previous life). I suppose between sleeping and HausFrau tasks (for me) and real work (for Man), one (or both) can get side-tracked and distracted (or just fall asleep on the couch). No excuses, just the truth, plain and simple.

Finally, night before last, we decided it was high time to take the bed out for a spin. Maiden voyage. The first night of the rest of our lives, a new beginning. We are in the throws of mad passion. OK, not really. . . but we are in the middle of "doing it" when all four of the support beams (freaking) fall out of place. We are not talking wild gorilla sex, just, you know, enough movement to get the job done & the (freaking) bed just about falls apart.

Come to think of it, the sturdy, but tacky furniture never gave us this problem. What's up with that? Can't I have my cake and eat it too?

Incidently, while we are post-coitally reinserting the support beams and putting the bed back together, the metal end of one of the box springs gouges a nice, deep scratch into the foot board. In my defense, I was . . . well, post-coital and sans contacts. Man was just mission oriented - get bed fixed, go to sleep.
Anyway, it's just a little scratch, and if I don't look at it, I hardly even notice.
Again, we never had this problem with the other furniture. Oh yeah, that would be because we didn't have a foot board. Who knew one could be such a liability?

So, last night rolls around. After a hard day's work, Man was all prepared to eat a wonderfully prepared, delicious home cooked meal, watch TV (& fall asleep on the couch) and then retire to bed to sleep motionlessly, as not to disturb the precariously perched support structures.

Until I informed him that it was cycle day 11 & this week is our last ditch effort to avoid the fertility clinic appointment on the 18th. Just whispering the words "semen analysis" was enough to move mountains, so to speak.

Admirably, Man stepped up to the plate, skipped re-run TV (& a nap on the couch) in order to fix the gravity/friction problem.


With duct tape.


Yes, I said duct tape.


And, a cut up card board box.



It was inevitable. There was no way for us to have a totally classy, snazzed up bedroom. It's just not possible. Plus, it just would have been a stark contrast to other rooms in our house - like, well, all of them. Ecclectic is one thing; oxymoron is totally different story.

We now have a noticeable scratch in the foot board & the bed is upheld with duct tape and cardboard (and non-slip kitchen cabinet liner foam). Not to mention, there are still three Army standard-issue wall lockers on one wall of the bedroom.

Our bedroom has lost a smidgen of its classiness, and the universe, once again, is at peace with itself.

I know it's been said time and time again, but I must reiterate, duct tape works -- very well.

And, I'm happy to report that the duct-tape-fortified marital bed now stands stoic against the wildest gorilla sex imaginable . . .

2 savvy comments:

The Redden Chronicles said...

OMG!!! Leave it to you to upgrade with duct tape!!!! I so needed a great laugh this morning!! The construction guys outside my patio door must have thought I've gone off my rocker!! I can't wait to read the next installation of "The Savvy Haus Frau"! Oh, it's a double header today..."Desparate Housewives" comes on tonite! My lucky day!
Keep on Blog'n!
Love ya,
Laura

Anonymous said...

Damn, now I have to keep up with the "Jones's". I have the crappiest bedroom set now. So what is it like having a headboard?! I've always wondered! It is stunning. I like that it had to be "trailered" up with duct tape. Now you're talking. We miss you and hope you are doing great. Hugs, Heather