No more rolling over

on Aug 06 in General by

“That’s never a king-size bed, it’s far too small”

“Well, Ikea do have their own standards of mattress size, they don’t conform to the industry standard. I suppose it’s a way of making sure that you have to buy any replacement mattresses from them too”.

Yeah, I guess. Well, we might as well get the super king-size instead, look it says its only 10cm wider and it’s only around £30 more”.

“OK. Are you sure it will fit?”

“Of course it will, look at it; it’s only slightly bigger than a normal double”

We now have a new bed. It’s a big bed. It’s only around 5cm smaller than our actual bedroom. I tried to take a picture of it but would have had to hang out of the window in order to get it all in shot. We’ve had to buy some walkie talkies in order that we can have a conversation with each other before going to sleep. It’s a big bed.

Ikea either played a cunning trick on us by switching our order with that of Moses Hightower from the police academy movies, or the bed looked a lot smaller in the vast cavernous warehouse of Ikea than it does our pokey little house. I suspect the latter. We have had to abandon our bedside tables and resign ourselves to flattening our backs to the wall when we want to move around the room.

There is a payoff however, it’s very comfortable, you can’t feel the springs through the mattress like you could in our old bed, and it’s big enough that all three of us can fit in it without a real life re-enactment of the song ‘Ten in the Bed’ occurring.

Related posts:

  1. Ain’t no cure for the flat pack blues
  2. Pains, Trains, and Automobiles
  3. Ten of the many, many, reasons I love my wife
  4. You’re never too old to torment your siblings.
  5. Windows, workmen, and a wuss

« « You’re never too old to torment your siblings.| Practically perfect, yet slightly irritating » »

One Comment

  • Kerry says:
    August 6, 2006 at 10:21 pm

    The 5 cm thing is no joke. I’m quite a bit bumpy now I’m 6 1/2 months, but not sure I’m going to make it round in a few more weeks. Soon I’ll have to send Amy to pick up daddy’s socks, but I don’t think I’m that cruel. Wouldn’t catch me washing the kids with a garden hose, for example :)