Chapter One Hundred Seventy-One: Ma’am goes to the mattresses…

So, we have needed a new mattress FOREVER! There have been copious conversations on this topic. We plan to move our existing mattress into the guest room and purchase a new one for ourselves.

Confused Husband arrives home from Costco. His usual expression of glee after a visit to one of his favorite places. He hauls in enough toilet paper and toothpaste to last a zombie apocalypse and then some. He has also been on an avocado kick lately. I unpack enough avocados to start an avocado farm. As I do this, he recites everything we can make with the avocados. I feel like I am in that scene from Forrest Gump, and Bubba is reciting to me: “You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, and saute it. There’s shrimp(*avocado) kebabs, shrimp(*avocado) Creole, and shrimp(*avocado) gumbo.” Exasperated from this interaction, I merely nod my head. Just when I think I am released from this Costco hell, he throws me a curve ball.

Darting back outside and bellowing: “I have a surprise!” Now I am afraid! My mind races: Is it an abundant amount of relish or Swiffer pads? Will I have to suffer through a soliloquy of all the wonderful things we can make with relish? Will there be a tutorial on building a fort made entirely out of the 5,789 Swiffer pads he brought home?

On the other side of the front door, I hear grunting and heavy breathing as well as cursing in Turkish. This can’t be good. The front door is flung open. All I see is a giant cumbersome box. I know Confused Husband is behind it as I hear his labored breathing. I hear muffled words but can’t make them out, as the behemoth box is blocking the sound. I see a hand flail up and point towards me. It is as though, we are air traffic controllers directing a jumbo jet in for a landing.

I slowly move away. From the other side, I hear an enormous grunt, and the mystery box is shoved into the hallway. The writing on the outside of the box is all in foreign languages. There are stickers with stick-like figures looking as though they are in various stages of being murdered. I assume these are warning signs. I am hesitant to ask what is in the box. Before I have the opportunity he announces: “We now have to bring this upstairs!” Okay, I give up and ask:” What is it?”

Like Bob Barker and, with great fanfare, he announces: “Our NEW king-sized mattress!” I look at the box and back at him. I am NOT a rocket scientist but, am highly doubtful of this. He misinterprets my silence for AWE! Confused Husband proclaims:” I know right?!” (he knows right what exactly?). Without further ado(any kind of reaction from me) he begins the arduous task of schlepping the mystery box with warning you are about to be murdered stickers up the stairs. He instructs me to walk behind him in case he falls backward (so what? I can break his fall and be crushed by him and the mystery murder box?)

I feel like Sherpas attempting to navigate Mt. Everest albeit without an oxygen tank which, I fear, Confused Husband needs at this point. After much grunting and sweat, the box is FINALLY upstairs and, thankfully, I wasn’t crushed by either party on the way up.

We slide it into our bedroom and with much discord, move our old mattress into the guestroom, and the guestroom mattress gets shoved down the stairs like a luge participant in the Olympics. Confused Husband is attempting to decipher the ominous you are about to murdered or lamed as well as maimed stickers. He looks at me, I look at him. Downstairs Buddy who can’t do stairs, is yapping to be brought up. He heads down to get him, leaving me alone with the box. I walk around it and get a closer look. I am doubtful they have packed and crammed a king mattress into this box.

Buddy comes bouncing into the room and sniffs dubiously at the box. Confused Husband shares his plan with me:” I am going to open the top of the box, and then we will pull it out of the box and VOILA!” (In other words; he has no plans and VOILA! is like yada, yada, yada. ) I am growing tired of this game so relent by nodding my head like that is the BEST plan I ever heard. Beside him, Buddy barks and wags his tail.

With great flourish, he opens the top of the box and says: “Gametime!” We look at each other and attempt to yank whatever is in the box out. The opening is too small for both of us so I move aside and he attempts to shimmy the box contents out. Nothing is happening. I hone in on a sticker that shows the side of the box has a flap and, once opened the stick figures are running out of the way. I point to it and say maybe open the side? He looks at the sticker and agrees. I stand back and call Buddy over to me. He gets the side open and moves out of the way. Nothing occurs. We cautiously get closer to the box. I see a tab sticking out of the rolled item. I point to it and Confused Husband yanks it with such gusto, like he has started up a lawn mower. A hissing sound fills the room, similar to a tire deflating. At first, it’s a whisper then grows increasingly louder. Suddenly there is movement in the box. Buddy barks ferociously at the box as it moves and expands.

We watch in confusion like what is happening here?! Moans and loud noises are coming from the box and I wonder if there is a living thing in there. A loud hiss ensues and the box literally flies across the room. I feel like we are watching a fat superhero strip out of his costume. I hear myself scream and Confused Husband shouts: “Run!!!”Where can I run? It is blocking the exit. I jump into our bathroom and Confused Husband follows. We slam the door and on the other side, it sounds like a plane taking off. I realize Buddy hasn’t made it into the loo with us. I hear him barking and am relieved he has survived this fiasco. There is a boom and then a slight hiss, followed by silence. We attempt to exit the bathroom and realize the bathroom door is pinned in by the mattress.

Confused Husband and I attempt to push through the door. We get about a foot open and look at one another. Between us, there are no viable candidates to squeeze out. We force the door another foot and wiggle through. The behemoth mattress that was really in the box is before us. It is like the box was a clown car, and the mattress is the 100 clowns that had climbed out of the miniature car.

Buddy is peering at us from the closet. Our nightstands are askew across the room unable to remain in their previous places.

We are gobsmacked! There really was an ENORMOUS mattress shoved into the mystery box! I am NOT a rocket scientist and have no clue how they fit that in there! It is one of the great mysteries of the world to me. We lay on the mattress and it’s an island! AMAZING! Outloud I say: “How are we going to find sheets for it?” I look over at Confused Husband and he is Googling on his phone catamaran sails…