Lowering the Marital Bed

I spent the weekend lowering our marital bed. That sounds both more scandalous and fun than it really was.

I don't mean that my wife and I spent the weekend doing something that lowered the value of our proverbial marital bed in some symbolic way.

I physically lowered our freaking bed. As in, I took a saw (two saws, actually) and lopped several feet of height off of our bed.

For reasons not particularly germane to this post, my wife and I were long that rare couple in their thirties and then their forties who slept in a loft bed. We had an over-engineered custom built monstrosity of heavy lumber that fit so well into our peculiar modern-industrial-barn design aesthetic that we dreaded having to part with it when age inevitably left us unable to climb up and down six feet for sleeping and . . . other things better done in bed.

Sooner than we expected, for health reasons also not germane to this blog post, the climbing up and down became an issue. A near fall late last week meant the bed would have to be replaced with something without a ladder. For both convenience and safety, I set about disassembling the old bed Saturday morning, suspecting that it would be replaced by a mattress on the floor for the short term, and some boringly average bed in the longer term.

While moving the 482 pounds of books from the shelves under the elevated platform, an overambitious thought came to me, with some encouragement from my wife: why not just cut the loft bed down to size, so to speak?

In retrospect, one reason why not to do something like that would be that our bedroom was many steps and a flight of stairs apart from all of my tools. Rather a lot of tools were required, and even when mostly disassembled most of the components of the loft bed were as heavy as the sins I don't believe in. Fortunately, our Cozy Boudoir has a concrete floor, so once I lugged a power saw into place and had the legs of the old bed sufficiently detached I could cut the bejeezus out of them right there in our bedroom. We just had to sweep up afterwards.

The process of lowering our marital bed wasn't tricky so much as it was time consuming and painstaking. More energy was spent planning, preparing, and cleaning up than actually doing the exciting and slightly scary sawing. While I started out thinking that I was lowering the bed, by the end I realized that I was evolving the bed to meet our needs now. The old version of our bed was quirky as all hell, standing taller than me and seemingly as heavy as a small car, but the new version looks really damn good.

The new version of the bed is a lot easier to get in and out of, too.

There may even be a metaphor in this story somewhere. The truth is like that, sometimes.