It’s barely Saturday afternoon, and yet the badgering has already begun. I mentioned the other day on Facebook about how I have to rid our house of sales papers, lest anyone get any bright ideas on ways to spend money needlessly. Well, apparently I need to rid the world of sales papers instead, because one that I got rid of, knowing that, if seen, it would spark a whole new round of badgering was brought home from work. Why am I not surprised? The intended eyes for this paper? Me, of course.
Apparently my family has spent a little too much time watching television, and being wooed by the Tempur-Pedic commercials. Yeah, you know the ridiculously over-priced mattresses that you have to finance for up to 4 years—essentially, almost the length of a car loan. Unless I can drive it around when I am not sleeping in it, nothing can be that comfortable.
Whatever the case, the Tempur-Pedic advertising and marketing professionals can feel satisfied with themselves, as their efforts have succeeded, and all of the members of my immediate family are convinced that this is the next thing to make their lives complete.
Due to previous complaints, our mattress was just replaced 3 years ago with a nice fluffy pillow top. Our previous one was not the most expensive, and it was used for close to the normal time-span of 10 years. Well, once the excitement of this new mattress wore off shortly after purchase, there was talk of spending more the next time. Now, that talk has been replaced with fevered ramblings about spending 4 or more times what was spent last time on a memory foam mattress. That has, in turn, caused my kids to think that, they too, are entitled to a new mattress for their bunk beds, in particular a Tempur-Pedic model.
This discussion has been coming up every weekend as of late, with me trying to dodge stops at local mattress and furniture stores. I have provided the kids with new pillows on a couple of occasions, even one memory foam pillow, in hopes of squelching this talk. Apparently it was not enough. I have even offered to buy memory foam topper pads when they were on sale in lieu of replacing the whole mattress.
The sales paper finally gave what is normally missing from those cunningly tempting commercials and advertisements—pricing. When I glanced at it previously as I was escorting it immediately into the recycling, I saw that they had broken it down to monthly prices ($38 per month, $40 per month, etc). Upon looking at it again, I was directed to the fact that in almost illegibly small print underneath that were the actual prices—the first one I saw was about $1,799. Ludicrous, truly.
Now I am receiving ultimatums to plan for such a purchase, even though our own mattress is not very old. And at least one of my kids’ mattresses is pretty beat up, so that will have to be replaced sooner rather than later, though memory foam will be out of the question.
The gang-up style that this is being done in is making me question whether I should just give up and relinquish financial power. Sometimes people need to be on the front line in order to truly understand what is going on in the battle.
Why all of these problems are cropping up with such frequency and urgency just months after a chunk of our monthly income was cut out of the equation is beyond me. Instead of being more cautious, it seems that members of my household are being increasingly more careless. Maybe it is due to a false sense of security, because things are still okay at this point. Or maybe the urgency is due to a looming sense of dread for how things will become—you know, the “get-things-while-you-still-can” philosophy. Whatever the reason behind it, it is driving me nuts, and causing me undue stress, particularly as I try to work hard to make up for our financial downfall each month. I have told my kids that I no longer want to hear constant requests of what they want, and that they should stop even thinking about it for a while, which will in turn help them not to talk about it. That concept is easier said than done, especially with birthdays and the holiday season on the way.
The whole struggle is making me not want to be in charge of steering this fiscal ship anymore, and it makes me want to be around people less, when all that you hear out of their months is a running list of what they desire next.
Please tell me that there is someone else out there that has experienced this, and can provide me with some hope, or at least some humor, about this trying scenario. If so, please comment, and lighten my day a little. I am in desperate need of some peace here. By the way, welcome to my ongoing saga. 😦