Life With The Drama Queen

Our Leyden is a natural Drama Queen. Always has been. And I don't have a clue where she gets it from. She was Little Red Riding Hood in her first grade play, and this past summer she starred as "Ella" in a modern improv production of Cinderella. She's pretty good for an amateur. She knows how to project her voice, and she LOVES to act. Even in everyday life. Which brings us to the point of this post.

Last night Leyden and I went to the mattress store to order porcelain finials for Leyden's daybed, which is actually on loan from my cousin Emily. (When we were putting her bed together in the new house, I let one of the sides fall onto the wood floor and guess what? One of the porcelain finials hit the wood with a thwack, and it BUSTED. Imagine that! And I have to give the bed back to my aunt when Leyden is finished with it. So, we have to replace all the finials, because it would be impossible to match just ONE.) Anyway, when we moved, Brad and I ditched our old waterbed mattress and bought a memory foam mattress from the local mattress store. While we were finializing our purchase, I inquired about purchasing new porcelain finials for Leyden's bed. The owner told us that he would sell us four at his cost since we bought a mattress from him. So, almost two months later, I finally found time last night to go order the finials.

When we walked in, the owner was on the phone, so we started looking around. Leyden found a pretty white twin sleigh bed and sat down on it. I noticed that it had a memory foam mattress on it.

"OH, Mom! This bed is COMFORTABLE! I WANT this bed!"

"Uh, NO, you can't get that bed. It's a memory foam bed. Do you see how much it costs?"

"I can save my allowance until I have enough. How much is it?"

"Sixteen ninety-nine, as in sixteen HUNDRED and ninety-nine DOLLARS. "

"Mom! It'll take me 'til I'm 17!"

"Yep. Better get a new plan - like another bed."

"But MOM! This bed has my name written all over it!"

"No, that's your butt print from where you've been sitting on it. Remember - it's a memory foam bed."

"My back hurts. I need a new mattress. You said memory foam is the best for a bad back."

(Don't you just HATE IT when they take your words and throw them back at you?!)

"Yes dear, but I meant a bad back like Daddy's. I agree that you could use a new mattress, just not THAT one."

Leyden continued to talk about the mattress to no one in particular the entire time I was with the manager ordering the finials. I got finished with the order and went to pry her off the bed. As we were leaving, she was still in drama mode - "My back! It hurts so bad! I really need THAT mattress!" Of course, the manger heard her and said, "I may have a blemished mattress that she'll be happy with. She needs a twin, right?" I told him yes, and told him he could check and let me know when I pick up the finials next week.

We got in the car and started home.

"Mom, what's blumish?"

"You mean blemish? It means that there might be a little tear or a mark or something on it and they discount it because it isn't perfect."

"Oh, I don't want that one then. My mattress has to be PERFECT." (Sounds like a Princess, doesn't it?)

"It doesn't matter if you get a blemished mattress - no one ever SEES your mattress except me when I'm changing your sheets! IF you get a new mattress, it may or may not be a blemished one, and it DEFINITELY, MOST ASSUREDLY, will not be that $1700 mattress back there."

"But Mama, you have a memory foam mattress. Why can't I have one?"

"Because it took all my pursuading power to get your Daddy to buy me a memory foam mattress and mine didn't cost anywhere near THAT much. I don't have any pursuading power left to get you one, too, let alone a twin sized one that cost more than our king size mattress. I might be able to get a new mattress out of him, but DEFINITELY not $1700 worth of new mattress. I'm not even brave enough to THINK about asking him to buy you that mattress."

Leyden continued to moan about back pain for a while and suddenly make a horrible aaacckk-ing sound from the backseat. I asked her not to pretend to be sick in my car.

"I'm not sick Mama, I'm dying."

"That's fine, you can die in my car, but remember that you can only die once."

Of course, she died several times on the way home. But she's still not getting that mattress.