At some point last fall, T and I were in the car when I spotted a sign for a place called 1800 Mattress. I was amused, pointed it out to T, and then began to make the kind of jokes that only a history teacher makes: "Is the mattress filled with fresh straw?" and "Do they let you pluck your own geese for the down in your 19th century mattress?" That sort of thing. I was just winding up for some quality humor when I realized that T looked confused. She then patiently explained that it wasn't 1800 Mattress, it was 1-800 Mattress.
From an historical point of view, that's not nearly so thrilling. However, it does come in handy when you finally admit you need a new mattress. Which I desperately did, as poor T's back can attest. A few weeks ago, I fired up the computer and headed over to 1-800 Mattress to order up a replacement mattress. Within 24 hours, it arrived at my door and seconds after that, T and I scored ourselves a Saturday afternoon nap. That there is called modern convenience.
Each night, I climb into bed eager to sleep on my new, soft, straw tick. It's a glorious, glorious thing.