The Family Bed
2 July 2013
A few years ago, I read an article in Vanity Fair about the Pitt-Jolie family. Apparently, they have a custom-built, nine-foot bed for their family of eight that Brad Pitt designed himself.
There’s a name for it. It’s called a “family bed.” And, it’s very common. I GOOGLED it. There are many celebrity (and non-celebrity) families sleeping together.
Sometimes, I wonder why no one is sharing my bed. Is it because I’m lazy? It’s hard work to get to know someone.
Or, is it because on any given night, you’ll find two poodle-mixes nestled on the pillow that should be reserved for guests? Oh, and there are marrow bones on the comforter. Oh, and the comforter cost $24.99 at Walmart. (I’m not proud I shopped at Walmart, but when the dogs put the marrowbones on the cross-stitched quilt, I needed a quick fix.)
I guess I’m very trendy. I’m like Branjelina. I have a family bed.
Booker T. Washington and Gus share my bed. Faith, the Bernese Mountain Dog, sleeps under the bed. (There’s a thick layer of dark fur covering the carpet under the family bed.)
Is it my laziness? Is it really too hard to get to know someone well enough for a sleepover? Or, is it the Hooker Horde in the bed? Is it the marrowbones? Is it the Walmart comforter?
There’s one other thing. Okay, there are two.
So, in addition to my laziness, the dogs on the bed, the Walmart comforter, the marrowbones, my dentist advised me to wear a mouth guard. (Granted, might not be the sexiest thing ever.) Then, last week, the internist suggested I wear socks and gloves to bed to keep my hands and feet warm. (That’s a hot look.)
Side note: I think I’ll apply to Shark Tank. Neither Cosabella nor Victoria’s Secret offer matching socks and gloves with their lingerie. There’s a big market. At least 50% of women have Raynaud’s Syndrome and/or circulation issues.
Guess I’ll stick to the family bed with the Hooker Horde. This post will probably completely deter any guests. Fortunately, I’m a little person and there’s plenty of room for the dogs.