At some point during my marriage we got a king sized bed. I’m sure at the time it seemed like a luxurious indulgence, being able to spread out with all that room. But ultimately it became an excellent excuse not to have to touch each other and, sensing weakness and available space, for the kids to crawl between us to sleep. And then the dogs got in on the act. Still, despite the end of the marriage and kicking out both boys and beasts, I kept the bed for over a year. Though I got all new bedding when he left I for some reason kept our marital bed, even moving it with me to our new house a year later.
But when we had to move yet again within three months, into a house less than half the size of the downsize, it became clear the bed would have to go. Not only was it creeping me out, it literally would not fit into my new bedroom. I gave the master bedroom to my boys to share, taking the tiny second bedroom for myself. Ruthlessly ridding myself of all our excess “stuff,” I was happy to use what I had to furnish my new room. So I sold the gorgeous, woven sea grass headboard and had the bed hauled off to wherever old beds and dreams go to die.
In my previous life, I’d had a marvelously furnished guest bedroom with a glorious daybed overflowing with pillows. I loved the West Elm frame, and pounced when I finally found it on Craigslist for half the price. And so, gone was my grand master bedroom with his and hers custom closets, exotic, dark hardwood floors, French doors opening to a balcony overlooking the ocean, and an en suite bath of gleaming marble and glass. Gone, again, was a smaller bedroom but still with French doors overlooking a lush yard and pool, with a Spanish tiled bathroom down the hall and a walk in closet. I now had a tiny bedroom with a door to the hall, a window overlooking the asphalt driveway, a window overlooking dead foliage on the side of the house and a closet that you could walk into only because it had no doors. In the middle of all this was my new bed, a twin bed, the former guest bedroom daybed.
Everyone was horrified for me and my twin bed: my landlord, my mother, our babysitter and numerous friends. My spawn were amused I was sleeping in the same size bed that they each had. However I was quite proud of using what I had, not spending extra money I didn’t, and, really, um, who was sleeping with me? No one. Plus I loved the design. So there. It fit nicely into my bedroom, looked respectable, if childlike, and was comfortable. As it had been a guest bed though, and I never had guests, I only had one set of sheets. With the occasional child still wedging themself next to me on the tiny twin mattress, or the 28 lb. dachshund heaving himself up despite the strong pull of gravity, I needed to be able to change them more frequently without having to wash them constantly.
Still budget conscious and a no-frills girl at heart, I headed to Mom Mecca i.e. Target, to grab some new sheets for my single mom bed. I perused the aisles, finally finding the section of twin sheets. I thought I’d find them among the regular sheets, but no, the twin sheets had their own section. I was starting to feel a little silly,but still, I was being responsible! Using what I had! Saving money! When I finally found a plain white set that was cheap but comfy, I stopped dead in my tracks when I read the label:
BENZOLYL PEROXIDE RESISTANT*, with an astersisk. Upon examining what the note with asterisk was I discovered that this sheet set was super special because it was resistant to benzoyl peroxide, an ingredient common in acne medications. You know who has acne? Teenagers and college students do. You know who sleeps on twin beds? Teenagers and college students do. You know what I’m not? Young. I’m also not using acne medication. Wrinkle cream, yes. Maybe it was time to get a Big Girl Bed, along with some dignity.
And magically one day recently, a mom in a group I belong to posted that she was selling her barely used guest bed and frame. I pounced on the email and hours later I was the owner of a brand new (to me) bed. I’ve got a headboard, a baseboard and a bed size based on royalty: Queen. Now if I can just find a King, instead of my munchkins, to share it with me.