Do You Remember the Memory Foam Incident?

Our cat sinking in the memory foam.

About a month after I launched Tweenior Moments in August 2015, I wrote a blog post called The Memory Foam Incident. To date, it’s been my favorite post (and my most popular one). I got it republished on Scary Mommy and it went mini-viral, with almost 4,000 shares on Facebook. (This was also my first exposure to mean Internet trolls who didn’t get that it was a humor article and basically called me a cheap idiot. But I digress.)

Well, you just never know who’s reading your work on the Internet. As it turns out, a marketing rep from Naturepedic found her way from my article on Scary Mommy back to Tweenior Moments. (Naturepedic manufactures organic mattresses.) After we exchanged a few emails, the marketing rep asked if I’d be interested in receiving a complimentary Naturepedic mattress so I could sleep on it and write a review about it on my blog. Interested? In a good night’s sleep? On a free organic mattress? HELL, YEAH!

I’m posting my Naturepedic review next week, but if you haven’t read the original Memory Foam post which kicked off this awesome chain of events, please read it here. And even if you have read it, if you want a good laugh (again) at my expense, click over for a chuckle. And, as always, if you like it, share it! Here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite:

A few months ago, I kept waking up with an achy back and sore hips. My husband Kevin started complaining about the same thing. It wasn’t us being middle aged, of course. It was our senior citizen mattress – about 10 years old at that point. It still looked in great condition, so we weren’t quite ready to toss it yet. But since we were struggling to get a decent night’s sleep, we decided to invest in a memory foam topper to extend the life of the mattress a bit longer.

Fools.

Here’s how it all went down:

Being good little consumers, we went online and read product reviews. People raved about how this high-tech foam helped them sleep better.

Like sleeping in a cloud, they said. Like a full-body hug, they said.

Convinced, we headed to Kohl’s to buy our sleep-changing, body-hugging, heaven-sent memory foam.

We carried the 50-lb. box to the car, doubting how a queen-size, sponge-like pad could fit in this 2-ft. box. We quickly realized the manufacturer compressed the foam like a mammography machine, squishing it to the size of a shrink-wrapped folded sweater. As we opened the box and cut the plastic wrapping, The Foam sprang free like a jack-in-the-box, nearly knocking down the ceiling fan.

This was the first sign we should have aborted our plan to memory-foam the bed.

  Please continue reading here.