Back when we were furnishing out teeny tiny townhouse, many decisions were made for us. For example, we had itty bitty end tables in the living room because the couch plus the two itty bitty end tables barelyfit in the available space. Anything bigger would have been useless.

The same situation existed in the master bedroom. We had exactly enough space for two nightstands and a queen-sized bed. You couldn't even slide a piece of paper in between the furniture and the walls bordering it on the sides. It was an exact fit.

Then we moved to a house three times bigger than the townhouse and suddenly our furniture which previously seemed SO HUGE seemed rather small and insignificant. Walking into the master bedroom and looking around made you feel like a Smurf who had moved into Gargamel's castle. You could literally fit three of our beds side-by-side and still have room to spare.

By now, you have to know where there is going. OMG, we had enough space for a king-sized bed! *swoon*

Forget building a deck on the back of the house so that nobody walks out the second story patio doors and falls to their death, we so totally made a new bed a priority. Friday night was a magical night, and we spent it perusing a furniture clearance center for mattresses.

And SCORE! Is it firm? Is it soft? Is it a pillow top? Is it going to last more than ten minutes? I don't care! It's big. No, make that it's BIG!

I would like to thank God, Jesus, Allah, Braham, Michael Jackson, Rory Gilmore, all the babies in the world, and anybody who directly or indirectly contributed to the creation of king-sized beds.

Bliss.

Sweet, sweet bliss.

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The great Peanut Butter Debate of 2009 isn't over quite yet. I need to test a few theories presented in comments. Results of this highly scientific testing will be forthcoming.