Progress in the 21st Century

“Yes, thanks, those seem comfortable and light. When can you deliver them?”

Martin, our older son, had reached his 7^th birthday and had decided he’d like bunk beds. We paid the shop and, a week later, a lorry drew up outside our gate. Two strong men carried first the lower, then the upper half into Martin’s room, and secured the upper bed with 4 screws. Then down they went to fetch the two mattresses. It took all of 15 minutes.

Roll on 35 years of progress. Earlier this month our house guests, mum Anastasia and daughter Olena, decided they’d like bunk beds, to better use the space in their room. After a quick search online, Anastasia showed me a most inviting picture of white bunk beds with lots of stars on the reviews, along with a mattress. She clicked ‘Buy Now’, and 2 days later, a long, heavy cardboard box arrived, from something like Qingdang Chaodang Zhendang Co Ltd, then another more squat affair, which actually appeared to have come from West Yorkshire. A further 2 days later, another smaller parcel arrived from China. The sense of mystery was spine-tingling, and we couldn’t wait for Assembly Day the following Saturday.

Firstly we had to dismantle the double bed on which they’d slept. Jane and I stored the mattress under our own, making our bed 9 inches higher. We got the frame down our narrow stairway with help from neighbour Dave, stored it neatly in the garage, and then Anastasia began to unpack the boxes.

I remember when Self Assembly first began. You got a booklet of step-by-step instructions, in English. Oh no, not nowadays! Accompanying the box’s contents was a single page of pictorial instructions. Wow, the human race must have become so much cleverer, to the point of no longer needing words in order to understand! Anyway, we laid the various contents on the bedroom floor and tried to identify them, then worked out how to begin.

The screwdriver is, to me, the centrepiece of any DIY job. But not to the self-assembly supplier. Instead, you get bolts that have to be turned with an Allen key, to be attached to Cams, which they supply. Said Allen key must have come out of a Christmas cracker. We preferred my own DIY key which is much better fabricated and easier to turn. If I’d have been the manufacturer, I’d have provided proper screws and said ‘get yourself a screwdriver’. You needed one, anyway, to put the latts on the bed.

Anastasia confessed to me that, left to herself, she wouldn’t have had a clue how to fit the dowels, cams and bolts. But thanks to a little education from Me The Expert (huh), she rapidly became fluent in the techniques. She also became a dab hand in using my ‘lecky screwdriver to attach the latts to the frame.

 We struck up a merry banter as, over about 5 hours, we gradually assembled the parts. All done except – what are these two little angle brackets called H, which, from the diagram, make no sense? Then I noticed the four large screws set in enormous yellow rallplugs. Wot? We’re s’posed to fix the bed to the wall? It was when Olena climbed up to the top bunk, sending the bed rocking to and fro, that we appreciated why.

Bedtime was approaching, so we opened the box from West Yorkshire, to reveal a thin, coiled-up mattress. Anastasia was concerned that it looked nothing like the 8-inch thick, firm one displayed in the catalogue. We brought the box upstairs. I carefully slit open the plastic bag inside, leaving the last bit intact, before gingerly standing back to make the final cut…and suddenly, like a giant troll playing jack-in-a-box, the mattress unfurled to reveal its true shape. The beds were ready to use if still rather ricketty.

The next day, my screwdriver and I went once more into battle. Because we have skirting boards, the beds don’t stand next to the wall. I needed to screw the angle brackets, attached to the bed, to batons which I then attached to the wall. Carefully measuring the position, I easily made the necessary holes, found suitable plugs and screwed the first baton into the breezeblock wall near the head of the bed. Now for the other end…only to find that the wall at this point was composed of plasterboard, which has very little strength! I got round this with a bit of ‘improvisation’.

Olena feel very safe in her sturdy new bed. So much so that she found a new use for it. Our daughter Helen was taking a nap in the downstairs bedroom below, when she heard an enormous thump on the ceiling. A minute later, it was repeated. And again. On investigation, she found that Olena was now practicing jumping, and landing, from the top of the bed’s ladder. Or had she just devised her own particular stress test?

The wall appears to be a necessary feature that gives the beds their  structural integrity. I suppose nobody in the 1980’s, back in the dinosaur days when they were s’posed to stand alone, would have thought of such an ingenious improvement to the art of bed design. Mind you, p’haps beds did cost more…