Where can I sell half a mattress? It's just a question, and I've got half a mind to ask it. It's not as weird as it sounds I swear. Ok, it's still weird, but not that bad. See, here's the thing: I've got a king sized waterbed. Not one of the old swishy-swishy-"Ah!"-Thump!-"I've sloshed out of my own bed and cant get up" ones. This one's got baffles. There will be no swishy-swishy here.
Rob, Why have a waterbed that doesn't move?
Great question. I'm baffled by the answer myself. Ok, stop throwing things. You'll puncture the bed. It still does do that. And yeah, There is a little movement. But not much. It's kind of like one of those air beds. You know, the ones that the old bionic woman sells? Yeah, that's kind of what it feels like, except the little movement you get moves like water not air. I don't sleep on a cloud. Oh and I can't wake up in the middle of the night and go "I'm no longer a 47, I think I'm a 72 now." For me to do that, I need a hose, a sink and the ability to suck start a waterbed. If I could do that, I'd have a change in career paths. My waterbed stays right where it is. I like it.
At least my half. See, that's the thing. The bed was a MyUnwife & Rob production. We bought it for us. It's two singles in one bed. Ok, now that's a truer statement than I care to admit. Let's try this: If you took Mama Bear's and Papa Bear's beds and pushed them together, then wrapped them in one candy coated mattress shell, you'd have our bed. We paid extra, but her side has more baffles. It moves less than my side. I like a little swishy-swishy action. That's how I roll.
A divorced friend of me asked me once, "Do you still sleep on the same side of the bed?"
"Yeah" I replied, but not for the same reason he asked. He was asking because I'm a world renowned creature of habit. One day moves very much like the next. At night though, I'm new creature. I live to move around the bed. Ask MyUnwife. I shake things up quite a bit when I sleep. That's the other reason we got the separate water balloons. I can thrash a bit at night and the swishy-swishy-"Ah!"-Thump was a very real threat for her.
"Pookie, why are you sleeping on the floor again?"
"Grrrrr."
"Ok, well I'll let you get back to sleep down there."
Now I'm alone. So late at night when I start to roll from one side to the other, now I stop. I hit her side of the bed, and it ceases to swish like water. It troughs and trudges like oatmeal. "Ah!" My body rejects that half, and rolls back. It's my bed and I still only have my side.
So marriage was a compromise. I get that, and I have no complaints about it. But sleeping alone isn't. It's me, myself, and my bed. Well, half my bed. Her side is oatmeal. I figure if I could get a different half a bed I could reclaim my nocturnal territory. Make it my own again. For now, I'm but half a man, and I don't swish as much as I'd like.
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