Friday, June 10, 2011

The Bed. Again.

My mother asked me about her bed again. She wants that double bed back in her room.

I honestly feel like I'm going to go insane over this issue.

Before she moved here, I told her she'd need a single bed because her room wasn't large. She agreed to trade beds with my daughter. So when she arrived here we (and by "we" I mean Anthony) placed my daughter's single bed in my mother's room. The mattress was almost new, nicely firm but not rock hard, and in almost pristine shape.

"This works out wonderfully," I thought, foolish twit that I was.

My mother's double bed arrived from Winnipeg about a week later, and went into Kathleen's room. Kathleen slept here-and-there during that week. We all bent over backwards to accomodate Sally.

A week after Sally's bed had arrived, my mother said she wanted it back. So we switched the beds. And again, by "we," I mean Anthony. He hauled the  8000-tonne teak headboard (read "ugly") and double bed from room to room. Kathleen was miffed, and I don't blame her.

You can't "give" something to an 11-year-old girl and expect that she'll happily give it back because you "changed your mind" about the gift.

After two days, my mother announced that we were right: the double bed was far too big for the room. "Move it back," she commanded imperiously.

Anthony obeyed. By now, his back seemed permanently broken by all the moving and the %$**& teak headboard.

Kathleen was over-joyed and rearranged her room accordingly for the presence of the double bed.

Since then,  like clock-work, my mother has demanded her bed back every month or so. She looks surprised when I tell her we (and by "we," I'm pretty sure you know I mean Anthony) isn't interested in playing the "moving man" game another time.

She uses excuses such as:
(1) we moved it out of her room one night when she was asleep (missing the point that she would have been asleep on said bed at the time, and if Anthony thought the teak headboard was heavy, it would have been nothing compared to the whole ensemble including my mother's snoring, reposed body), and that was sneaky and not very nice, and she wants it back, thank-you-very-much.
(2) the quilt she brought from Winnipeg fits a double bed. When I suggest that we can easily buy a smaller quilt to fit the single bed, if that's what she wants, she loses eye contact and repeats the fact that she needs her bed back.
(3) her bed is her "life." That's a direct quote, folks.
(4) even though Kathleen has been sleeping on the bed for over two years now, that shouldn't be seen as a hindrance to taking the bed back. Kathleen should just suck it up. 

Since I refuse to yank the bed away from Kathleen yet again, Anthony and I priced double beds yesterday. For the kind of quality my mother wants, it's going to cost at least $1500. That's quite a bit of cash, considering the fact that I know Sally will sleep on it for around two to three days before announcing it's too big, and that she wants the single bed back in her room.

Did I mention the fact that this issue is slowly but surely driving me insane?

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