Newlyweds, Beds, and Temper Tantrums

It happened. It finally freaking happened. Steve broke our bed.

I know what you’re thinking.

Dang newlyweds. Don’t be hatin’. You were there once too.

But, no.

It didn’t break during a wild, passionate, torrid, sweaty night of horizontal monkey jumbo.

It didn’t even happen during a WWE wrestling match.

It happened when my husband, in the fit of a temper tantrum because I didn’t want to fix waffles, eggs benedict, hickory smoked imported bacon, and freshly squeezed orange juice for dinner. I know it’s hard to imagine that I wouldn’t have the zing of energy come to me when he suggested this BASIC meal for dinner.

Apparently, homemade waffles and eggs (easy side up for Steve) just isn’t enough.

So, he thrust himself upon our bed with such gusto that the middle arm of the steel bed frame folded like a pocket knife.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen our bed is broken. Guess what we're getting for Christmas? Let the laughter begin…

Love,
~heather (and Steve too…)

P.S. The whole temper tantrum thing is a made up story. I don’t think either of us have ever had eggs benedict, or imported bacon. If he had the nerve to request such a meal after me working – we would MOST definitely be having a WWE wrestling throwdown. I doubt he would win.

But, the bed is broken. Steve was being silly and ….. the rest of the story is right.