Trout is a Grumpy Old Donkey

You know how you can spend ages looking forward to something, really building up the anticipation, then the reality is somewhat less? Well, there’s worse, and I did it to my eldest 2 minxes…

I’ve had my eye on bunkbeds for Maxi and Midi Minx for ages. I found just the set I wanted: nice solid ones from M&S, fantastic reviews (well over 100, but still averaging nearly 5/5), look good, last years, fairly minx-proof. So I watched them for nearly a year, vowing to snap them up if they were ever reduced in price. On Christmas Eve, finally, they were. I pounced on them electronically, then ordered the mattresses an hour later from an online company I’ve used loads of times before: (Brilliant service, fast, cheap, made-to-measure at the same price as standard, loads of options, really seem to understand parents’ needs…). So far so good.

So the mattresses arrived on 12 Jan, the same day the bed was due to arrive. Then the bed delivery got shifted. Still, we’d room to squeeze the 2 enormous blue-plastic-wrapped mattresses into the spare room, just between the precariously balanced boxes and the ceiling. The bed finally arrived last Friday. The delivery men were astoundingly clean, quiet, polite (fellow Glaswegians like me, but I’m not biased. Much). They managed to assemble the bunkbeds so quietly that they didn’t wake sleeping Mini in the next room. I even fed them tea and biscuits. Good chocolate ones!

I’d spent the interceding weeks between due and actual delivery of the bed building the minxes into a frenzy of excitement and anticipation about their big girl bunk. We’d dismantled their old short beds 2 nights before and made a fuss about them sleeping on mattresses on the floor, like they were camping. We’d pictured what their room would look like, who’d sleep where, how high they’d be, how long the beds would be, bought new single bed size duvets and ‘real’ non-baby pillows. You get the picture. They were beside themselves, more excited about the beds than Santa.

So, I ripped off the blue plastic on the mattresses to find… they were too long. I’d wanted 190×90, but these were 200×90. Feeling sick, I tried one on the bed. It wouldn’t fit. In a fury, I stormed downstairs to the laptop, to unearth the original order email. How dare the company get this wrong? Who’d want a non-standard single bed mattress, never mind 2? What idiot… oh right. That idiot. Who somehow managed not to notice on the order confirmation 2 200×90 mattresses. Oh hell. No surely, there must still be some mistake! I’d never get something like that wrong! So I went on the website, checked out the form, clearly recalled reading the beginning blurb about it being a standard single bed, and knowing that I wanted standard everything except I also fancied an unzippable, washable cover for minxy accidents. I guess I’d not noticed the drop down box at the very bottom giving 2 length choices? Perhaps it had defaulted to 200×90? Either way, the error appeared to be entirely, 100% mine. I should have double-checked the order confirmation at the very least… What a dufus of a donkey!

So, there was me at 1415hrs on a Friday afternoon phoning the mattress company very apologetically, heart thundering, asking about the possibility of an exchange…? I think the lassie I spoke to was new (she had to check absolutely everything I asked her. I wonder if she’d have checked with her colleague what her name was, had I asked…?), but nevertheless, she stayed after her knocking-off-for-the-weekend-time to sort me out a collection courier. (Yes, I had to pay for that, but fair enough – I’m the divvy who should know better to check the detail). OK, I sat in yesterday and all day today thus far waiting on them in vain to come collect the re-taped massive blue plasticked monstrosities (I swear they’ve grown another 20cm over the weekend now they live in the hallway), but I’m sure they’ll arrive today. They’d better! Because I can’t get replacements until the old ones have arrived at the factory. And I have 2 little girls who’ve been very upset since Friday, let down by their silly mother, desperate to not sleep on the floor anymore…

I think the problem isn’t so much sleeping on mattresses, it’s because they naturally gravitate towards each other in the night. So all we hear downstairs is, “Argh! She’s snoring up my nose! Help! She’s poking me in the eye! She’s making a smelly smell! She’s got yucky breath out of her nose! She’s wiping her bogeys on my Bagpuss!” etc.

So please, Mr FedEx, get your bum over here as fast as you can and save my girls from themselves! (And their silly Mummy who now knows better, and won’t even tell them when the new mattresses arrive, just let them walk in on a ‘new’ room one night)

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