My dad called me Friday night to see if they could stop by on Saturday because they were going to be in town. Sure, no problem. What I wasn’t expecting was that they had a surprise.
I’ve had an antique 3/4 bed, halfway between a single and a double, for as long as I can remember – since I was a kid, anyway. My mom put a huge amount of work into sanding and repainting it. I’m extremely attached to it, and it seems to be the only place I can really sleep properly. It’s soft (no box spring), and just the right size for me and assorted felines. The problem is, finding mattresses for it is, to say the least, hard.
Dad and Kimmie showed up to tell us there was a mattress waiting, we just had to call the furniture store and okay the delivery, and they’d even take away my (extremely battered) old mattress. This one is an awesome high-quality pillow-top one with a ten-year warranty, so I’m set for a long time!!!
How do the kids feel? Well. While I was attempting to strip the old mattress, Cory, who was lying in the middle of it, calmly watched me freeing the corners and moving the pillow and the books that had collected in the inner corner and all, without ever moving – I had to physically remove him. Trick decided that the old mattress, at an angle while being removed from the frame, was a really neat place for a stroll. Poor Freya, who was hiding under the bed because company makes her nervous, was spooked out and ran for a new hideyhole. Bringing in the new mattress freaked all of them out.
However, once the dust settled (barely), exploration began. Followed promptly by attempts to add as much kitty cheek-rub-scent and kitty-fur to the new addition as possible to make sure that it’s clearly marked as “approved.”
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