I wonder if I can plan to give birth on my bed? It’s not that I look forward to a home birth (I look forward to drugs) or that I think it will be a more welcoming, loving environment to greet my last-born (he’d better get used to pain and bright lights if he’s going to earn my retirement as a football player). No, it’s just that I hate my mattress, and if I can schedule a time when a lot of nasty fluid sits and ferments, well, then a new mattress suddenly shoots to the top of the don’t-go-into-debt-for-it priority list.
My husband and I have exactly two debts: our home and his schooling. So, technically, he has 2 debts. I have one. We buck trends that way. I turn down Target credit cards, in spite of the discount offered at the time of sign-up. We have no Sears card, no Home Depot card, and I pay for everything I buy with the money in my checking account. I don’t earn points on a credit card, thinking that I’ll pay it off at the end of the month because I know I won’t. I know that slippery slope, and I’ll stay very much on the summit, thank you.
This isn’t to say I’m so great with money. I did, after all, keep that camera. But being out of debt means not buying things you really, really want or really, really think you have to have. Being out of debt means not eating at Sonic even if it is only $2.50. It means turning down events with friends, not just once or twice, but lots and lots of times.
Is it worth it?
Well, I saw my parents repeatedly declare bankruptcy (like clockwork). We had foreclosure notices on houses and my mom hid money in random places so she could feel more secure when the past-due bills started piling up. All this, not because my step-father couldn’t earn a decent income, but because he didn’t take care of the income he earned. He’d buy my mom a diamond necklace and then we’d go on church relief in order to eat. He’d shuffle off to Wendover, Nevada for the weekend and come back experience-rich and pocket-poor.
My brother and some of my sisters will see that as a condemnation of their father. Whatever. It’s a life-experience that taught me the very-real stress of growing up in a house that refuses to control finances.
So, about the mattress. You see my difficulty? It isn’t a priority. If I could get new siding by giving birth on top of the house, I’d consider that. We don’t have an HOA, so in terms of the neighbors, there’s not much they could do about it, although there may be some sort of public menace rule. And it’s not like my mattress is that bad. I don’t wake up in pain because of it or anything like that. I just don’t like it as much as I’ve liked other mattresses and I wouldn’t mind having a new one.
Hey, I know. Why don’t all you mattress companies out there send me free mattresses so I can let you know which ones I like best? We need a king size, please, since my husband is a dangerous man when he’s asleep. And I like pillow tops. And, if it comes with a handsome check, I might like it even better. I figure, if Oprah can sell herself, certainly I’m worth at least a mattress.