Broke the Bed with the Wickedest Slam

Just to Fight


It’s not what it looks like. It was an accident. Sorry, it’s probably going to happen again.

OK, so we have a bed situation. We have (or had) the best bed in the world. We got it three homes ago and it cost £3,000. It was worth it. It’s super king size. It’s got the most ridiculously heavy mattress and it just feels perfect in every way. If you have the space, I advise you to go and get one too. (Bear in mind super king size bed sheets are hella expensive thought).

Back to the matter at hand, myself and Cameo have regular wrestling sessions. In fact, nearly every time I tell him we’re going upstairs, he says “Fight you”, so I have to retaliate to his threats. (You have no idea how satisfying it is to slam a small child onto a soft bed. Don’t try this at home and all that, but I know what I’m doing). We’re building up our skills together. He’s great at selling moves like a top boy right now. We’ve perfected suplexes, chokeslams, but by far the greatest is a swift scoop slam.

The scoop slam is what got us into trouble.

You see, the scoop slam is the perfect setup for what’s to follow. As he’s lay on the bed, I usually get one of his massive teddies to jump on him from the top of the headboard. This time I decided I was going to do the splash.

Bad idea.

What followed was a crunch. I knew it wasn’t Cameo. I knew it wasn’t me. But I couldn’t be sure it was either the floorboards or the bed. One is a bad situation; the other is a terrible one. As I say, the mattress is ridiculous heavy, so I didn’t check straight away. I needed to evacuate the toddler and come back to it. When I went downstairs, something must have happened and I completely forgot.

Bed time swings by and I sit on my side of the bed and hear the craziest creek. Luckily, Hollie wasn’t there, as I’d now decided I was going to hide it from her until I figured out what the damage was. Things didn’t feel right below me, but the noise was louder than the discomfort. As the night went on, the sound wasn’t playing along and questions were raised. I avoided everything until the next morning. It was time to figure out whether it was a bed problem or a floor one. I was shook.

One of the two halves of the divan base had caved in. Caved in. My weight diving onto my child had broken the bed. Considering we’d had the bed for five years, we’d had a good run, but I never expected it would have ended this way.

I’m in the market for a new divan base. We’re not going back to Bensons for Beds, because we’ll get bumped. We need something that does the job and can take the weight when I’m hosting handicap matches against a pair of toddlers. Shout me with recommendations. Quick.


*Listen to Pastor Troy.*