Well, I'll make this short and
After a couple of nights back in her good, old bed, Sally emerged from her bedroom and announced that her back was killing her.
This, accompanied by much twisting of facial muscles and pursing of lips. You know, to show me just how much that old back was hurting.
I kept the aforementioned straight face, looked puzzled, and told her that was impossible.
"Your back was sore, Mom, because you were 'suffering' on the single bed. You told us that countless times."
She looked dumbfounded.
"So, now that you have your old bed back, your back must be great, right?"
I have to give it to her. She is shameless and unabashed, even when caught in the most bald-faced of lies.
She: "Oh no." This said cool as a cucumber.
"My back get sore because I have a deteriorating disc. It has nothing to do with the bed."
And with that, off she flounced.
We're just waiting now. Waiting for the inevitable request to get that big honking bed the hell out of her room.