This past week, I was reminded of this story by James Thurber: The Night the Bed Fell On Father. Actually, I was just reminded of the title, as I couldn't recall anyhting about the story, which if you decide to read it, you will find that he holds it to be non-fiction. I won't dispute his claim, but I do note in passing that any good story teller has long since mastered the art of embellishment. Anyway, if you want to read his humourous account, you have the link.
By now, the shrewd among you have already figued the gist of this anecdote. Yes, I rolled over in bed the other night, and it collapsed under me. (He said unhumourously.)
It was the guest room bed which we recently traded for. It was not a good trade. Previously, we had two single beds side by side to form one gigantic and fairly comfortable kingsized bed. However, when the opportunity arose to exchange it for a moderately sized double bed, it seemed like the thing to do. However, it turns out not to be a great mattress (to put it mildly), and now we know that the frame is a little suspect too, for it has no cross pieces. So when the railing that the mattress sits on shifted a little, the dadgum thing fell onto the floor .... WITH ME IN IT!!
It wasn't terribly difficult to put it back together except that I am not a tool sort of guy. Therefore, the only wrench that I could find to fit was a big adjustable one, and I couldn't find the room between the frame and the floor to maneuver it. Eventually, we solved that problem; I lifted the bed high enough off the floor for Cuppa to crawl under there and tighten the bolts.
No damage done of course, and it's something to talk about in a blog post after all. Life is full of opportunities, eh? There was another benefit to be reaped as well because I also printed it off and read it to Cuppa. We haven't had material for our bedtime reading lately, so for one night we did.
BTW, Thurber writes better than I do. Hint, hint.