And by "That sounds simple," I mean, "You are scaring me, and I am glad I can never have more children."
I imagined it with mirrored side tables, a tufted white velvet headboard, Ralph Lauren metallic paint in Silver Plated coupled with Disney paint in Mickey's Shadow stop laughing that shit is the best grey paint EVER, a white dresser, black velvet curtains, and finally a home for my crystal Tiffany candlesticks.
Every few weeks, I checked the website for a sale. Then. Finally. Sunshine. Rainbows! A SALE! My doctor ordered me to get a new mattress, so I would quit showing up in his office hitting him up for pain pills because my shoulder hurts so bad and I refuse to have surgery and our mattress is forever old. So with a sale, and a need for new bedding for our new mattress, it was a totally justified purchase. I ordered that shit with a quickness. All of it except the filler for the duvet. Because I am picky. My blanket has to have to right weight to it. Just right. Perfect right.
And wouldn't you know it, when I showed up at Bed, Bath, and Beyond, they had sensors over the zippers. I couldn't feel the fluff. How could I know it was right? How? And don't dare expect any of the employees in that store to actually help you by doing any work. Who was I to ask to actually be able to touch and feel the products before I buy them and drive thirty minutes back to my house? I am so demanding.
So Bed, Bath, and Beyond. We are not friends. Not at all. Your employees suck ass. I spent my money elsewhere. My duvet is the perfect weight no thanks to you.
Now I just need to convince my husband that these are also a necessity.