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The Best Uses of Bedside Table
Of all the things that we could have fought about, I never assumed that it would be a bedside table. Ok. I feel I need to explain this to you. In our house, the bedroom is the smallest room. I’m not kidding when I say that it is smaller than our smallest bathroom. I don’t know how we could have skipped noticing this fact when we were moving in, but there you have it – the world’s smallest bedroom. A fact that makes it all the smaller is that we have what can comfortably pass off as the world’s largest four-poster bed. Again, I’m not kidding you. I bought this mammoth at a garage sale because it seemed too good to pass up, and believe me when I tell you, I’ve never regretted anything as much as I have regretted buying this bed. Hang on, that’s not entirely true. I do regret the bed, but maybe it’s the bedside table that I regret the most.
You see, this dainty little bedside table came along with this huge bed. And since I’m never good at passing up an opportunity to claim a freebie, I took the bedside table home. Trouble is, the bedroom is far too small to accommodate me, the missus, the mammoth bed and the bedside table. And since my missus was used to her comfort and fell in love with the bedside table at first glance, it was me who was unceremoniously booted out of the bedroom on the first day. Being too weary to argue after lugging the mammoth bed home, I quietly went to the living room to slump on the couch. But day two again saw me being booted. This time I put up a good fight with the missus and got hollered at for my effort (Oh yes! The woman can holler!) So back to t good old couch it was.
Day three came by and I decided to be a little proactive. Well before the missus got all bleary eyed, I snuck into the bedroom and smuggled out the offensive bedside table. I placed it (rather too much concern on my part, if you ask me) out on the balcony. In a way, you could say that after being banished to the couch for two straight days, I was keen to get my revenge. But all hell broke loose when the missus discovered that I was in the bedroom while her ‘lovely bedside table’ (her words; not mine!) was out in the cold. Now snide remarks may slide over my skin, hurtful words can be absorbed by my hide, but being passed over for a miserable old bedside table (my words; not hers!) was too much hurt for my pride to swallow. So I did what every hot blooded man in my position would do. I stormed into the balcony and threw the offending bedside table over the side.
Big mistake. The bedside table landed on poor Mrs. Jane and left her bed-ridden for a month. My society members fined me for wanton and dangerous littering. The missus never forgave me till I bought her a similar bedside table (and a really expensive one this time around; turns out the bedside table I had smashed was a collector’s item of sorts!) and I got banished all over again to the couch (this time, minus the cushions!) Moral of the story? Try a mattress on the floor and enjoy happy, wedded bliss!
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