Wednesday, 25 February 2009


Not to be confused with mistresses. Except MPs' secretaries are both, nicknamed 'mattresses' because MPs lie on top of them, which also makes them mistresses. Yeah, that makes things a lot less clear. I guess I just lke the word 'mistresses'. I'll stop now.

So, yeah... mattresses.

My mattress is awful. I've got a king-size bed, plenty of space for sex and cuddles (and singing, can't forget that), and yet the mattress (which allegedly came with the bed a good few years back) has gone through a fair amount of wear and tear. This is, of course, likely due to a very tall boy sleeping on it every night for Glod-knows-how-long, and recently, making passionate love on it a few times every week or so; given the fact that the first time I ever got into the bed a very noticeable spring did its best to impale my back, it's hardly surprising that we've managed to transform it into a veritable BEAST of uncomfortability with all the "movement", even if I do turn it over every couple of months.

So I realise I have my birthday next month, and having forgotten about it, I hadn't given much thought to what I wanted. I'm quite dangerously into my overdraft at the moment, interest-free as it may be - so lots and lots of money is the first item on my list. Along with the 1996 Doctor Who TV-movie with Paul McGann in it, and... a mattress.

I put this idea to my family via e-mail yesterday and got a reply almost instantly from my dad.
A new mattress may be available outside of the birthday list as a gratuity needed by any young buck into serious courting.

Interesting guy, my dad.
I decided to fire off an ambiguous reply.
Well, since [TD] actually suggested I got a new mattress for my birthday, you've hit the theoretical nail on the head pretty easily.

He replied promptly once again:

What, only theory?

I think my dad has too much time on his hands at work. Get him back into acting, people!

Anyway, so I'd forgotten about the mattress situation until this morning, whereupon I'd just finished a jolly session at college proving I am my father's son (acting my heart out; I was brilliant, of course, but got nowhere near as much laughter as I'd anticipated). Decided to send off a couple of texts to people to tell them I'd finished - this is why I don't use Twitter; I'd never shut up about my mundane life - and I got a reply from my mother telling me that not only had she spent an hour looking at mattresses this morning, but she'd also ordered me one. Also that they cost a lot. She made a point of telling me that.

I'm getting a new mattress, and I don't know what it's going to be like. I'm quite excited about that. Maybe a little too much. Still, I'll let you know what it's like once we've given it 'the works'...

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