When my two besties and I met for a recent girls’ weekend, the conversation eventually turned to old-school water beds. After all, what else do women of an advanced age discuss?
The three of us agreed that we could not understand why anyone would have wanted one of those beds. Of course, I didn’t always feel that way.
Indeed, when I was a wee lass growing up on the Goff Estate, one of my older cousins had a waterbed. I thought it was the most wonderful thing in the world. My cousin was nice enough to allow her annoying younger cousins to amuse ourselves by floating on the bed. And float we did, because if one of us so much as breathed, the bed sloshed underneath us.
Although I have no memory of doing so, I would bet you the change I found in the dollar store parking lot that I begged my parents for a waterbed.
So, yeah, I can see why a small child might enjoy the novelty of a waterbed. Or why a much older person might enjoy a waterbed for reasons I’ll leave to your imagination.
But when it comes to waterbeds, it’s the sleeping that gives me pause. I guess it worked out if you and/or your partner met Mr. Sandman as soon as your head(s) hit(s) the pillow(s). But the first time someone moved, you’d feel like you were Rose from the Titanic drifting on that door.
I’m developing motion sickness just thinking about it.
Even if I could get past that – spoiler alert: I couldn’t – those beds were huge and they legit contained dozens and dozens of gallons of water. From my limited research, I learned that owners had to run water hoses into their bedrooms to fill the mattresses with water. That sounds like a lot of work and an accident waiting to happen.
Even if I could get past that – spoiler alert: I couldn’t – I would have lived in a constant state of apprehension that the waterbed would have sprung a leak. Making the bed or changing the sheets would have terrified me. What’s more, think of ordinary items that could have nicked your water mattress, resulting in your entire house being flooded and you incurring thousands of dollars in damages: knives, tweezers, wire clothes hangers, the edge of a book, the teeth of a comb, a jagged toenail.
And I haven’t even mentioned pet claws and teeth. If you had an old-school waterbed, danger lurked everywhere.
This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.