Once Upon a Mattress

And once upon a box spring. I may out-boring myself with this post. You've been warned.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu...

Up until this weekend, Mr. Husband (who is 6'1") and I were sharing a full size mattress.
Our bed seemed positively palatial when I purchased for just myself out of college, and it was the biggest bed we could fit in our first apartment when we were married (an attic apartment up several very narrow, winding flights of stairs). Our current apartment has the bedrooms on the second floor up a narrow--but not winding--flight of stairs, and after chatting with a few neighbors (and lots of elbows to the face in the middle of the night) we started dreaming of upgrading. When my in-laws' next door neighbors, who just moved down to FL, offered us a queen mattress and box spring from their guest room, we didn't hesitate to take them up on it. We made plans with my awesome brother-in-law and his pickup truck, expanded our metal bed rails, and put the old mattress up on Craigslist. And Facebook. And 5Miles.

(We have just the box spring left now. Apparently the guy who picked up our mattress last night couldn't fit the box spring because he had a "small sedan." I don't know why you'd pick up any kind of mattress in a small sedan so I'd like to see how he got even just the mattress home.)

Mr. Husband and his brother managed to get the mattress upstairs, but the box spring couldn't even fit up the first step.* In desperation, they went to the nearest furniture store to buy a split box spring, but fortunately, my father-in-law just happened to call and offer to cut the other one in half. Meanwhile, my BIL's girlfriend so very kindly and patiently put up with 3-year-old hyperexcited shenanigans of the grabby and foul-mouthed variety.

I'm so ready for the "I-morph-into-a-wild-animal-when-guests-are-visiting" stage to be over.

Not pictured here. This is him in a quiet mood.

So, my brother-in-law drove the box spring alllllll the way back (they're 45 minutes away), my father-in-law cut it up and sealed the two pieces. And the next day, my BIL and his girlfriend drove it alllll the way back through two hours of Sunday post-vacation traffic. God bless them.

Nothing but Pinterest-worthy decor around here.

So I've yet to get some kind of dust ruffle to conceal this little, erm, seam. I can't decide between a dust ruffle (I hate them because they live up to their name, but it would hide the ugly metal bed rails), a fitted sheet (sleeker), or just replacing our stained and pilled comforter from K-mart with a bigger one to cover everything up. I'll be sure to blog about whatever I decide, so I can out-boring myself again.

 (Source)

*This is the point where Mr. Husband and I wondered once again if our apartment is cursed. Seriously, every time we try to make improvements to this space, some weird quirk makes it incredibly complicated. Like the time we bought a TV armoire on Craigslist, and I wound up calling professional movers to get it inside. They had to remove the railing from the back steps to get it through the door.)