My husband and I were watching TV last night. I was zipping through the commercials, and we saw an ad for the Sleep Number Bed whiz by on the screen.
The inside joke we’d shared over a Sleep Number Bed popped into our heads simultaneously, and immediately, we both started laughing.
When we were on our Great Roadtrip of July 2012, we had the opportunity to stay with friends in Utah. Their house is gorgeous, and their guest facilities top-notch. Our friend was giving us a tour and showed us the bed in the guest room. It was a Sleep Number Bed, and we’d always wanted to try one of those. (Someone told us a while ago that there is a strange “hump” in the middle of a Sleep Number Bed. We both sleep in the middle, so I was curious to see if that was true.)
She told us that it was still functional, but that the display on the controls no longer lit up. You had to just push the buttons and see what happened. We wouldn’t be able to see what our number was, but that’s okay. No worries. Beggars can’t be choosers. I was just happy to be sleeping somewhere that wasn’t a sleeping bag, and I was sure it would be fine.
We went about our evening.
As things turned out, I went to bed before my husband did. Claire was already asleep in the room on an air mattress on the floor. I didn’t evaluate the firmness of my side of the bed any more than, “That feels okay. I have no problems with this,” and that was that. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
Later that night, I had the strangest dream. I felt like I was sinking in quicksand! I could hear a slight hissing noise as my limbs sunk deeper and deeper. As the Pssssshhhhhhh whispers through the room, I’m sinking, sinking, sinking. Then, just as quickly as it had started, the noise stopped and I was suspended on a cloud. Then, the leaf blower started blasting.
I shot straight up.
“What the…what!?” I yelled. My husband can’t hear me over the roaring noise coming from our bed.
“Sorry! Sorry!” he hubby says, frantically pushing buttons on the control. “I can’t see what I’m doing!”
“Well, why are you doing anything at all!?” I whisper-screamed at him, as the noise finally stops.
“It has buttons! How am I not supposed to touch the buttons!?”
Luckily we have a child who can sleep through anything, and she didn’t even wiggle. We decided to sleep on whatever number was already set for fear of pushing that luck too far, and we discovered that it does indeed have a distinct ridge in the middle of the bed.
I have yet to see an infomercial depicting the true nature of a Sleep Number Bed. No one is frantic as they try to work the controls. There is no yelling. There are no whisper-screams.
I don’t know what my Sleep Number is, but I can tell you this: It’s somewhere between Quicksand and Leaf Blower.