Intolerance for Hard Beds Finally Explained

Once upon a time there was a princess. Late one night after all her servants had gone to bed, the princess realized that she was in desperate need of some feminine hygiene products. Too lazy to put on make up, shower, and get herself into her royal shopping clothes, she left a little disheveled in her royal lounging clothes and headed out to the Royal Convenience Store. Half way there, a fierce wind blew up and a heavy rain began to fall. Having never walked to the Royal Convenience Store on her own, the princess lost her way and found herself in a dark wood. She was scared, wet, and in even worse need of feminine hygiene products than when she had left. Suddenly, through the rain, the princess spotted another castle that she had never noticed on her route the store. Even though it was late at night, the princess pounded on the front door. Soon a voice came and asked who was there. "It is I. Princess Bobette," she said. The door creaked open and an old servant eyed the princess. "You're not a princess," he told her, glancing at her royal lounging clothes that were muddy and wet and torn from her journey and her mascara that had formed large raccoon circles under her eyes. "But I AM!" the princess insisted. "Well, come in," the servant ordered. "We will treat you as a guest, whoever you are." So the princess came in and shook out her stringy wet hair. Meanwhile, the servant got his orders from the Queen of the castle to make a special bed to determine if the girl really was a princess. She had a loafer son who was stretching his bachelorhood out a lot longer than the Queen cared for, and she was hoping to get him hitched. If this girl really was a princess, maybe the two would take a liking to each other. So the servant set to work creating the bed that would show if the girl was a princess. He piled mattress upon mattress, some made of corn husks, some made of feathers, some made of fluffiest white goose down, and some made of individually pocketed springs with polyester fill and a 300 thread count quilted pillowtop. Soon the pile reached dozens of feet into the air. The servant placed a tiny hard pea between the bottom two layers as per the Queen's instructions. "This," the Queen had told him, "will tell us if she is a princess. Only a princess's skin is tender enough to feel the pea underneath all the layers of mattress."

The princess was soon called into the guest chamber. She was given some nice cotton jammies, a big stick of deodorant, a large box of tampons, and a towel for her hair. Then she was ushered to the tall ladder leaning against the very tall stack of bedding. Up she climbed, and soon she had settled in for the night.

In the morning, the Princess put on some new clothes that the Queen had ordered to be brought for her and joined the Queen and her son for breakfast. "How did you sleep, My Dear?" asked the Queen. "Not well," replied the princess. The bed was horribly uncomfortable, actually. It felt like I was sleeping on a bed set on a giant boulder! My body is all bruised this morning," she told them. And she pulled up a sleeve to demonstrate her black and blue arms. The Queen jumped to her feet and squealed with delight. "A princess!" she exclaimed. "A REAL princess! There will be a wedding. Today. Immediately!" Luckily for her, the prince and princess had been eyeing each other at the table and actually had the hots for each other. So they both agreed to the wedding. But the princess suggested that the prince might have a better wedding night if they waited about 5 or 6 days. So the wedding was postponed for a week. And the princess called her people to come and get her and bring her home. The next week she and the prince were married. And aside from having a mother in law who was always meddling in everyone's business.... the prince and princess lived happily ever...

Wait. That's not the end of this story. The story actually continues a day later when the prince and princess went to Austin, Texas on their honeymoon. They decided to stay in a Marriott Residence Inn despite the princess's previous bad experience with a regular Marriott. And to both of their delight (for the prince and princess both had the tender flesh of all royalty) the beds at the Residence in were soft and delightful to sleep on. Plus there was a free full breakfast at the hotel each day that included waffles and sausage. Score.

The moral of this story is, most of the people who stay at hotels are clearly not royalty. Big K and I, however, obviously are. Separated from our royal parents at birth somehow, I suppose. Maybe like Briar Rose, stashed in the suburbs until it's time to come forward and claim our royal heritage. At any rate, for future reference, The Residence Inn does cater to royal skin. Hooray!