Attacked by a ‘blowup’ mattress

My wife and I bought a new mattress. Queen size, not king, because momma likes to cuddle and if momma ain’t happy … 

It arrived in a box about seven-foot tall, 18 inches wide on all sides. I opened the box and pulled it out. It was compressed tightly – oh what an understatement – and wrapped with three layers of plastic to keep it that way.

I started to go get some scissors to cut it away, free it from its pliable prison, but then noticed they had conveniently – part of the sedition I’m thinking now – taped one of those distant-cousins-to-a-box-cutter letter openers to its side. “Ah. Thank you,” I thought, in all my ignorance of what was about to happen.

So, let me say. 

Three of my children have bought “compressed” mattresses at some time or another. All three of them told me it was amazing how firm and fluffy it was once it had fully filled out, but not one of them warned me. “It’s kind of like dynamite. Light the fuse and run!”

The box didn’t warn me. “Do you believe in the big bang? You will.”

The online description didn’t warn me. “Our mattress in a box queen size is conveniently shipped in a box and delivered right to your doorstep, with no complicated assembly required. It’s compatible with box springs, platform bed frames, flat bases, or even can be placed directly on the floor. For optimal performance and comfort, we recommend allowing the mattress 72 hours to fully expand and for any initial odors to dissipate.” The “simple unboxing step” – a diagram – didn’t warn me. “Unbox.” “Unrolls.” “Cut the plastic.” (Note: It was impossible for it to be “unrolled” while in its cocoon.) “Expand.”

None of the reviews – 1,853 global ratings with 4.2 out of 5 stars – warned me. “The setup process was a breeze. It was incredibly easy to unbox and set up, saving time and effort.” – Teresa Leerar; “The memory foam makes it very comfortable. It was very easy to set up, and I didn’t notice any smells when I open the package.” – Casey Holley; “The bed opened to a full size queen and I waited 3 days for maximum expansion and, OMG, it is fantastic.” – Toxtith O’Grady.

So, there I was, like a surgeon (Madonna sang over my iPhone in the background). I found an opening at the top, delicately inserted the blade “… not too deep, you don’t want to cut the mattress …” and began to move down. It was going great. It was opening up like a flower on a nature show. Fifty percent down. Sixty percent complete. Seventy. Eighty. Eighty-five … And then something unexpected happened …

… Back in the day when I covered sports several reporters and I were standing on the sidelines of a Perry football game. We were on about the 20-yard line. The Panthers were kicking off. The ball went up. The ball came down. It bounced and rolled around a little bit and then went into the endzone. We were all watching it happen to our right side when all of a sudden, out of the left, out of nowhere, I was blindsided by a Panthers football player. Did I mention we were standing on the 20 and it went into the endzone? Never mind that. He sent me flying. I don’t think I’m exaggerating it was at least four feet. 

Well, that’s what that mattress did. It just suddenly burst open – exploded – and threw me across the room. I went airborne – albeit only a few inches off the ground – and landed against a wooden dog kennel. “There was Hugo. And there was Hugo. There was Hugo all over the place.” – Ray Stevens, Hugo the Human Cannonball. I thank God for no broken bones or bruises. (Other than my ego.) My glasses kept going a couple more feet, but not before the nose piece got bent in the shape of Michael Myers’ knife and proceeded to cut a quarter-inch line across my nose.

My wife, the queen of my double-wide trailer (a Sammy Kershaw song), with blood now trickling down my face, only responded with: “Well, babe,” as if I was the guilty party and the mattress was just an innocent bystander. (Did I mention this was made in China? “We will take those Americans out one mattress at a time.”)

I know. Even with my very limited math skills I should have been able to reason this out. “Critical mass x fission + if a train is travelling west at 45 mph and another train …” The problem was I was not in a thinking mood. I was in a “get ‘er done” state of mind.

My humble advice to you, if I may offer it, is if you’re looking for a Serta or a Nectar or a Beautyrest or Tempur-pedic or anything in that neighborhood, go purchase feeling safe and secure. But avoid “temper”-pedics at all costs. They still have some anger issues to work out.