If you read my blog yesterday, you are well-versed on my relationship with a certain air mattress that I would like to refer to as “The Titanic”. Why you ask? Because it really is just a sinking ship edging its way toward the murky view of the bottom of our trash can.
While I joked about instead of fireworks to celebrate the new year, I would revel in the constant sound of Brian reinflating that damn mattress because he can’t fink the leak, I had know idea how close that sound would be. He brought the nuisance into the living room. Why? Well, because our Basset, likes to have her place on the couch. She happens to not be big on sharing and spreads her body out, as her comfort is more important. Apparently, in order for Bailey and Brian to watch football comfortably, that mattress invaded the room. Ugh.
The pump was in constant use because Daisy decided that the sofa was not as attractive as this amazing (cue my sarcasm) inflatable bed. You put an additional 70 pounds on there and the leak is going to simply expand. It’s as though it was screaming, “Help Me!”. I grimaced every time I walked into the room. I shouted, “Oh, for the love of God!” each time the sound radiated through our home. They just laughed. Instead of a countdown to midnight, I am counting down until Friday when the new mattress will be delivered.