#54 Bediquette

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It was just a bad dream, but it scared me. I don’t know that anyone’s ever been acquitted of murder because their mate was a bed hog, but it wouldn’t surprise me.

When my wife and I were first married, we had an iron-framed, sway-backed, double bed that my parents had given me when I went away to college. It didn’t have box springs and the mattress sagged in the middle. All night long we rolled toward the center like twin avalanches tumbling down a mountain. By mutual agreement, we moved to the edges of the bed. As each of us rolled to the outside, we pulled the covers with us. It wasn’t uncommon for the sheet to be suspended eight inches above the bed and to be taut enough to serve as a trampoline. In a matter of days, the fabric was showing signs of stress in the middle. We were in serious danger of being shot through opposite walls of our bedroom if the sheet ever gave way.

My wife said we had to get a new bed or one of us would have to sleep on the floor. I said if she wanted to sleep on the floor that was fine by me. She said if anyone slept on the floor it would be me. I said we had to get a new bed.

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Tags: humor essay | humor column | marriage