We recently purchased new bedroom furniture. Having outlasted our hand-me-down furniture and having put up with our inexpensive pkea (see Futurama clip here) long enough, we decided to buy real grownup furniture.
While in the process, Dr. H mentioned to his father that we were shopping for furniture. His dad excitedly pointed out that we would be able to take our pick of furniture from his old house and Dr. H's grandparents' old house. The houses are on the same property and are scheduled to be put on the market soon. Unexcited about more hand-me-down furniture, Dr. H. was noncommittal. However, a month later, when Dr. H. proposed driving there in June and possibly towing a small rental trailer behind him if the need arises, his Father insisted he should fly and rent a truck, because there would be way too much stuff for a trailer.
Uh-oh.
"Does he think we are taking a whole set of bedroom furniture in addition to your grandfather's papers?" I asked.
"I don't know. I didn't think so before, but now?"
We have a small bedroom and by this time had already decided on a platform bed with drawers to improve our storage situation. We bought it and two large dressers with deep drawers from a popular catalog we will call EarthenwareBarn. We forged ahead and purchased the furniture. It arrived prior to Dr. H. finalizing his plans to visit his father. In retrospect, I'm not sure if this tactic would be considered brilliant, passive-aggressive, cowardly, or what, but is seemed no big deal at the time. The day the furniture arrived, I mentioned it to FIL's partner when I spoke to her on the phone, forgetting this might be a sticky situation. She sounded extremely surprised. Uh-oh. A half an hour later, FIL calls to talk to his son. Why had he purchased furniture? Why had he not waited until he came to visit? I told Dr. H. to blame it on me, the daughter-in-law, but Dr. H. would have none of it. Instead, he explained our storage situation to his father, leaving out the small detail that one of the reasons we lack storage is the amount of space we have dedicated to sex toys and BDSM equipment. (Apologies to anyone shocked. To those curious, we are both switches.)
Anyway, two days after that awkward conversation, Dr. H. brought the furniture up with his father again, who assured him he understood. In truth, FIL has a tendency to advocate for solutions to problems that work well for him, sometimes not hearing or absorbing others' lack of enthusiasm or objections to the idea. Once he had time to realize we had never actually said or even implied we wanted any of the furniture, he was very gracious. All is well.
In other news, my mom is staying with us for June and July. Having recently retired, she is in the process of moving across country to be near her brother and by the ocean. She loves the new furniture. The bed is great, with six deep drawers around the outside.
"What are you going to put in all those drawers under the bed?" she asks.
"Um..." I say, pausing, as this conversation has just become a little awkward.
"Oh!" here eyes grow wide. She knows we are kinky. Other than that she prefers no details. In general, she is fine with it. She thinks we are adventurous and doesn't want to know too much more.
After a moment she says, "But what about the other five drawers?"
"Uh..." I pause again to think. I am totally unprepared for this conversation. And, in general, I try not to lie to my mother, so it doesn't come easy.
"You need all SIX drawers?" She asks, incredulous.
"Um, well maybe four or five," I say, "not including what's in the closet."
"Oh!"
Mercifully, the conversation ends here, with only minor embarrassment and perhaps some small amount of amusement on both our parts.
Of course, since having kids, much of our equipment is sadly neglected. But the kids are sleeping really soundly at night now. Perhaps we just need to invest in a little more soundproofing?
