Last January I fought the Defective Maytag Washing Machine War. It seems this year’s campaign will be The Battle of the Bed.
The Master bedroom, especially for anyone with kids, is supposed to be a haven, an adults-only escape from the craziness lurking outside the door.
|Okay, so this is not my bedroom…|
|…or this one…but a girl can dream…|
I’ve been working hard to create our sanctuary. I painted my walls a serene blue, surrounding myself in tones of the sky and sea. I refinished all the furniture and dusted the tops with scented candles and cherished photos. The floors and bathroom were painstakingly remodeled with my own bloodied fingers, gallons of sweat, and occasional tears. The baby/kid stuff is banished. The decor now sets the mood for comfort and tranquility. But I still can’t get a decent night sleep.
Now, I know many beds tend to squeak a little bit. And yes, sometimes couples pride themselves on how loud they can get that bed rocking. But I’m talking about moving a hand, wiggling a toe, an 8 pound cat stretching and we are rudely roused by the metal springs screeching.
At first it was funny. (Hey, maybe we broke the bed…wink, wink.) At times it became creepy. (Was that a mouse? A branch scraping the window? A monster dust bunny prowling under the bed?) Eventually it became unbearable. (Can you fix me a Chardonnay & Unisom nightcap please?)
The bed is under warranty by Sealy. It was purchased from Costco. I am caught in the vicious circle of each party saying the other has to do something about it. I just want SOMEONE to take responsibility for the valid warranty and do something about the problem (i.e. replace my squeaker with silence).
I just sent my Hubby of to confront Costco again. I get too frustrated and flummoxed in the face of deaf customer service reps. Together we often play good cop/bad cop (or irrational PMS woman and her poor husband who deserves a break because he has to deal with her) but I’m just not in the mood to get my blood pressure soaring today.
And if we finally do wear Costco down and they agree to return or exchange the mattress set, how do we transport it without tipping our little car over? Don’t laugh–we came very close one time (see previous post with 20 foot tree hanging out of trunk).
I wish we could afford to just junk it or trade it in for one of those space-age foam mattresses. I always wanted to practice cheer-leading jumps while resting a full glass of wine on my mattress–haven’t you?
Maybe it’s all a plot by my husband so I won’t nag him about his teeth grinding habit anymore.