Breaking News: We are getting a new bed. That's Covers You Can Count On! Seriously, we are having a new bed delivered on Thursday. It's not really new...it's an old bed that is sort of new to us. I'll explain in a minute. I know you just can't wait!

A number of years ago, when all four of our kids were still at the age that thunder or nightmares or a soggy bed of their own could and would chase them into our room, we bought a king-sized bed. I didn't really need Storm Call Alert System or a weather radio. I could tell the severity of the storm by how many kids ended up in our bed. Sometimes we'd hit that four kid level. Add a dog, and it would get a little crowded. Especially, with a dog who believes the bed is his and sleeps diagonally plus a couple of our kids, who shall remain nameless, who do all the dance numbers from West Side Story in their sleep. But, things change. While the dog still gives us a dirty look when we try to move him over...he's about 80 pounds awake...160, asleep...all but one of the kids makes it through the night in his or her own bed. And, that straggler will be away at college in a few months. Good luck, roommates. So, we're "down"-sizing. That's a bedding joke.

Many years ago, my mom generously gave me her old bedroom set. Despite being purchased in the 1950s, it still looked like new. I used it all through college and, when it came time to move to KC, passed it onto my in-laws for use in their guest room. Since then, it has traveled from Wisconsin to Oregon to Tennessee. I'm not sure what kind of wood the dresser, bureau, headboard and nightstand are...maybe it's called almond or something but it has a neat, well-cared-for retro look to it. The bed itself is a double. Now, after about 19 years, we are getting the whole kit and caboodle back. (How many times do you actually see "kit and caboodle" spelled out, like that?) My wife's parents are moving and have decided to have the bed delivered to our house as part of the move. I fully expect, once I sleep in that "bedroom" again, my second childhood will be officially underway.

In preparation for the movers, my wife and kids decided to save me the work, and move the box spring, frame and very 80s headboard into the basement. The headboard is so 1980s it has a mullet, wears pale pastel sports jackets and likes the music of WHAM...especially Wake Me Up Before You Go Go. That's also request we used to make of our kids when they were little and would crawl into bed with us. Anyway, when I got home last evening and headed for the bedroom, there was just a mattress on the floor. All I needed was a tin cup and a harmonica and I could be Cool Hand Luke. The dog was completely offended. Sleeping on a mattress on the floor is just a little too close to actually sleeping on the floor, for him. He adapted. Other than having to reach about four feet over and three feet up to turn off the plethora of alarm clocks I use in the morning, it wasn't too bad. However, I have to admit when those bells started ringing and I swung my legs over the dog and off the bed, they landed with a clunk. My feet were expecting about a three foot drop and got about six inches instead. For a brief moment I thought I was in The Twilight Zone. Maybe I'd grown into a giant overnight!?! Where's my golden harp? Where's that goose? Who's this punk Jack? Probably I'd be some kind of ogre...without Shrek's charm or writers. Or, was this a scene out of one of those Honey I Shrunk or Blew Up the Kids movies? After a moment of looking at my toes stretched nearly straight out in front of me...all the little piggies looking startled...I remembered: most of the bed is down in the basement. I'm not going to complain, though, because, I think it was a close call for my wife as to whether or not I'd be joining it.