Old Biddy
Taylor and I tested out different Posturepedic mattresses last night...making us both officially boring and old.
While testing one we liked called the Posturepedic "Blissville," Taylor thought it would be helpful to fart into the $1300 pillow top mattress to test out its resilience... Not too shabby. No vibrations that might disturb my sleep and it absorbed any smell that might have resulted quite effectively.
What a considerate husband I have, to make my personal comfort such a priority.
Thankfully, there wasn't a helpful salesperson within miles of assisting us in sight, so the entire experience was pretty entertaining.
It's an interesting phenomena to pick out your very first, brand new mattress as a newly wedded young couple. It's not like picking out kitchen appliances or a new sofa.
I think it's a combination of suddenly being concerned about the firmness of your mattress and the quality of sleep you are getting. Suddenly noticing that a newly aching back won't allow you to simply pass out peacefully anymore when it's time for bed and that you are willing to fork out a ridiculous amount of money to do so again.
You slowly begin to realize that the thrill you feel while testing out those new mattresses bumps you into that once foreign realm of the square and married adult- where you can recognize that the coolness you once believed you possessed while simply dating is rapidly depleting with every "Honey, come try this one. It's SO amazing," (bounce, bounce on the bed) "It's firm, but not TOO firm. WOW."
This being said with the same kind of enthusiasm once reserved for big nights out on the town or scoring some sort of fabulously potent illicit party drug to tweak out on until the sun comes up.
But at the same time, mattress shopping sparks thoughts of what kinds of things can be done in beds besides sleeping...and the smell of newly, uncharted territory like a room full of expensive virgin mattresses with high quality springs and coils can be oddly enticing.
Scoping out a new bed brought back memories of our 21 year-old sex lives from 6 and half years ago when we first started dating and couldn't keep our hands off one another. "Hmmmm. A new bed to do it on! Sweet!"
Since no one wanted to help us, we probably could have gone at it right there and gotten away with it- you know, to test it out and make sure it was juuuuuuust right. We didn't, but discussing doing so made the shopping more fun.
The fart helped too. I can always count on Taylor to break the ice. Nothing like giggling hysterically at immature shit with your husband while immersed in Old People Land. Keeps you young.
