You’re Killing Me, Mini

by anna on August 19, 2009

Mini's handiwork in a local mattress showroom.

Mini's handiwork in a local mattress showroom.

If you had told me a few Saturdays ago, “Anna, Mini is going to destroy a mattress today,” I would not have bothered to ask which mattress it was that he would be destroying. I don’t waste time on formalities, you see. I would simply have asked you to direct me–immediately–to the most expensive mattress in the store.

Because I know my son.

Picking out the most expensive thing to covet, purchase, destroy, or otherwise consume is a Viele family tradition. We mastered it generations ago, and now it takes no more than a superficial glance to gravitate towards a consumer product of high price. And, when you are two, you could care less about actually buying a mattress upon which to sleep. You are way more interested in finding the best, most expensive one upon which to jump, smear unidentified toddler goo, and/or otherwise render unsalable. For sport.

I know there is such thing as a $50,000 mattress. So technically, not the most expensive one he could have ruined. But close.

I know there is such thing as a $50,000 mattress. So technically, not the most expensive one he could have ruined. But close.

We were shopping for a new mattress recently, directly after taking Mini to My Gym on a Saturday morning. And you should know that part of the tradition, at the end of My Gym, is to get “socks, shoes, and stamperoos!” on all available body parts of your child. The “all available” body parts clause is actually something that is reserved for Mini: most kids are happy with one stamp on their hand, maybe a second on the other, non-dominant hand if they are extra fancy. But for Mini, the practice is one stamp on each hand, one stamp on each foot, and one (or two) stamps on his belly, so that by the time all of the ink comes off, it’s almost time to go to My Gym again.

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, the stamp pads will be near the end of their run, and the ink will be faint and less prone to bleeding all over the damn place. By the same token, if you manage to convince Mini to stick with the smaller, less-inkable-surface-area “Mymo” monkey stamps and avoid the My Gym logo stamps, you can also contain the potential for ink running disaster. But on this particular Saturday, it was like a crazy perfect storm of kid-themed ink disaster: new stamp pads, My Gym logos all over the place, and even as I was putting on Mini’s shoes I knew the ink wasn’t quite dry.

It still works, right?

It still works, right?

So you can see that, when Mr. Right-Click removed Mini’s shoes to avoid getting the mattress dirty–the mattress on which Mini was climbing and trying to jump and just generally be an average 2-year-old boy hellion, the situation was ripe for ruining a mattress. And which mattress was Mini jumping around on, for less than ten seconds in total? The $20,000 mattress, of course.

Why are there such things at $20,000.00 mattresses, anyway? It’s not like we were shopping at Hästens. No, sir–I know better than that. I know if I walk into a store like Hästens, I will immediately become convinced that I need to spend more on a mattress than I’ve ever spent on a car, even if under saner circumstances I will assure you that there’s no reason to spend more than, say, $3,000 on a mattress–tops. How can any mattress be worth more than that? Are the coils made of solid gold? And even if so, is this a good thing?

Once we discovered what had happened, naturally, the anal retentive store manager walked by and said, “That’s our $20,000 mattress!” Which really pissed me off. And it was kind of fortuitous, too, because I wasn’t able to get really pissed off at Mini, or at Mr. Right-Click for taking his shoes off, or at myself for not better attempting to control the fallout. I was able to contain and focus my rage upon this annoying store manager, who was acting like it was her $20,000 mattress to which Mini had just given a jailhouse tat, and violating all of my hard-won retail sensibilities in which accidents happen, boys will be boys, oh yeah !and it’s a mattress showroom, where people are trying mattresses out all day long, covering the mattresses with their nasty body odor and secretions, and touching it with their filthy shoes, and surely this kind of thing has happened before and I’m sure you have a policy in place. Oh no! instead, she tried to make us feel worse about the situation, and immediately got on the phone with the store’s corporate office–which of course was like, “uh, we’ll just replace the top, this happens all the time,” (just as I suspected)–and hemming and hawing, hand-wringing, and hair-tearing.

To make a long story short (too late): we are enjoying our new mattress, which didn’t cost $20,000, and doesn’t have any ink stains, either.

Yet.

{ 12 comments }

beth aka confusedhomemaker August 19, 2009 at 6:07 am

That’s an insane amount of money for a mattress. For $20,000 I want it to rock me to sleep, be made with gold coils, tell me I’m the most beautiful in the land, & manage to put my kids through college. And whatever it’s a mattress in a store 20 Gs or not it’s calling a kid’s name (or if you are like my father who thinks all mattresses call his name, since he will lay on, bounce around, roll, jump & all around test it out regardless the cost)so I am sure Mini wasn’t the first kid and won’t be the last to climb on it. Screw the store manager.

Glad you got a new mattress for yourself, sans ink stains (for now anyway).

Perpetua August 19, 2009 at 6:10 am

Here’s where I show that I’m from the sticks: a $20,000 mattress? You’re shitting me. Even if there were such things where I’m from, I’m pretty sure they’d be kept behind plate glass. Mini is clearly an anarchist.

Also, what, My Gym can’t hand out stickers?

Charm August 19, 2009 at 6:43 am

i’m in the planning / wishing stages of buying a new bed and have been looking at mattress and base combos that cost about $4000AU and almost dying from the comfort of just testing one! i cant even imagine what a $20K US bed would be like to sleep on!

how did you decide which one to buy in the end? this is where i’m coming unstuck. there are two we like but they are so different in structure that i worry we’ll pick the wrong one and have to sleep on a bad bed for 10 years!!!

the ex August 19, 2009 at 6:52 am

Did you buy your mattress at Sit & Sleep? I HATE their commercials. Or your mattress is freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11

die.

Kerry August 19, 2009 at 7:12 am

Wait. The manager called the corporate office WHILE YOU WERE STILL THERE? Oh HELL no.

A place that sells $20K mattresses is lucky to have anyone even walk in the store in this economy.

Becca August 19, 2009 at 7:13 am

Our last bed was $75 on Craigslist. Nothing but the best for my kids!

Store manager seems to have some kind of inferiority complex. Sounds like the Dwight Schrute of mattress sales.

anna August 19, 2009 at 7:27 am

@beth, did you check out the link to Hastens? They have mattresses that cost $60,000. SIXTY THOUSAND DOLLARS. Can you imagine? I want that mattress to get up and change diapers and refill sippy cups, etc. for that much!

@perpetua, I know–the stickers would solve so many problems. But I suppose they’re more expensive or something.

@charm, we found a few that were good compromises between my desire for a pillow-top and my husband’s need for a firm mattress. I read some frugal websites that suggested you shouldn’t pay more than $2,000 or so for a mattress, that there was little difference between $2,000 and $5,000 mattresses. We got a California King, so I figured it would be slightly more expensive. They also said that you should anticipate that with good haggling you’ll get the mattress for about $200 below the listed price. I don’t know if this is universal, though, or just United States. But a lot of it is like buying a computer when you don’t know what you’re doing–you kind of narrow it down and take a leap of faith. I’ve been sleeping very very well since we bought it, though.

@the ex, yeah, hence the title. I hate those ads, too. But the thing is, you’re looking for a mattress, and you think, well, let’s just go to Sit ‘n’ Sleep. So I guess they’re effective.

@Kerry, I know! I cannot believe she didn’t just do what the salespeople were doing, which was to say, “it’s no big deal, don’t worry about it, etc.” She was being a giant bitch about the whole thing.

@Becca, yes, I don’t have a ton of retail experience but she violated basically every rule I’ve ever been taught.

Charm August 19, 2009 at 7:32 am

we’re going for a pillow top but its whether to get normal coil spring or the individual springs…. and KING! yes! YES! Y E S ! I’m sure no matter which one we get it will be better than the 10 year old, second/third hand DOUBLE we’re sleeping on now!

Kerry August 19, 2009 at 7:49 am

We have the Tempur-Pedic Rhapsody. It was $3400. I never in a million years would have guessed we’d spend that on a mattress, but I’d just spent months on bedrest in my 14-year-old crappy bed while pregnant with my son. As soon as I was well enough to walk, we went over to the Relax the Back store and bought it. It was worth every dime. I wish I’d bought it before I was on bedrest, because it would have made it soooooo much better.

beth aka confusedhomemaker August 19, 2009 at 8:06 am

I would also like the beautiful circus act (on the website over there) to attend to my & my family’s every need for 60 Grand. I would love to make that much in a year, can’t imagine dropping it on a mattress.

Brown August 20, 2009 at 12:46 pm

Are you a professional journalist? You write very well.

foradifferentkindofgirl (fadkog) August 20, 2009 at 1:30 pm

I had to go back up to the photo three times to make sure I wasn’t needing to call the eye doctor again because I had to count the digits on that price, each time declaring “That’s FIVE NUMBERS!!” That kind of mattress should be filled with the souls of saints who whisper to you about how pretty you are as you are lulled to sleep by their fairy tale voices. What the hell?! What the hell tothe manager calling corporate while you were there, too. You’re a saint for buying your mattress there in the end. I just glad they didn’t try to steal your voice to bolster those five-digit mattresses!

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