I’ve always loved waterbeds and had one every since I moved out of my parents’ house; the old fashioned “full baffle”, hard-sided waterbed. Fast forward to marrying Matt, and we found a new, soft side waterbed. To make it even cooler, the water was in tubes. This eliminated the full jiggle that the old style was famous for and you can use normal sheets.
Like all beds, however, soft side waterbeds need to be replaced every 5-10 years; it was time for a new bed. I had an idea – why not give the open baffle, full jiggle style a try, and Matt went along with it.
You know, you’d think he’d learn.
We bought our new bed, and I marked the occasion by purchasing satin sheets. The bed was set up, and I opened my new, silky sheets, and began to spread them across the bed; then attempted to tuck them in.
I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to realize that 750 pounds of quasi open water was going to be heavy. Lifting the corner was going to be a challenge.
I struggled to raise it, then jammed my right knee under the mattress. I was able to tuck the sheet under on my left side, but I was at an odd angle, and couldn’t quite tuck it in on my right. I figured that what I needed was more leverage and I didn’t want to lose what I had by removing my knee.
In a move that would make contortionists everywhere proud, I managed to bend down and use my left shoulder to hold up the mattress. In that precarious position (while mentally giving myself a pat on the back for managing such an acrobatic feat), I reached for the sheet with my right hand.
And here’s where the science of wave motion comes into play.
If you push a body of water one way, it’s bound to come back in the direction it came from; often with almost the same force. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what might as well have been a tidal wave barreling towards me.
Just as it hit, my foot began to slide, sending my body careening backwards. My knee recoiled from under the mattress, slammed into my chest, and I began to slide under the bed (although I think it would more accurately be described as lurching).
My left hand was waving wildly, trying to grab the bed post in a desperate attempt to slow my descent, while I was still clutching the sheet in my right hand. There was no help to be had; I was going down.
I landed with the grace of an elephant on my back.
I was lying there, looking up at my ceiling, legs and arms akimbo, with half of my body underneath the bed, as the rest of the sheet slithered off the mattress and landed on my face.
The theme from “Deliverance” was playing in my head.
I’ve matched wits with children, adults and even animals, and lost. Losing to an inanimate object was a new low, even for me. If only that was the one time my waterbed mocked me, it would be enough. Sadly, it had just started.
Stay tuned for Part Two.
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