Since the Breaking Dawn trailer debuted, I have heard nothing but "ZOMG! SQUEEEE! HEADBOARD!" from women around the world. I am not among those women. That fucking scene has ruined my life. And not in a good way. This is a story that started over a decade ago.
[Insert trippy flashback music]
Mr. TK and I were bumming around some funky little shops on a lazy Saturday. We happened upon the coolest canopy bed ever. We weren't in the market for a new bed, but it was so unique we agreed that it needed to be purchased. Immediately. The bed was handcrafted in Sri Lanka, or some other place I can't locate on a map. It took a few months to arrive since it had to be hewn out of the local trees and shipped over. Meanwhile, Mr. TK and I decided our old bed was the biggest piece of shit ever and the yet to arrive bed would cure cancer, potty train our cats and make us dinner every night.
Delivery day finally arrived. The first thing that became clear is this motherfucker was BIG. It looked much smaller in the store. This over eight-foot tall bastard has dictated where we can live ever since its arrival. The next thing that became clear is that people who are not two burly men and/or handy with putting things together should always buy furniture from The Room Store like normal folks. The next sobering truth that unfolded was that this beast was held together with only two bolts. Two. The whole thing kind of snaps together and the giant wood canopy part that hovers above my face is held on with two bolts. I was then handed a photo of the happy children and old men who built our bed. I can't make up this shit. I believe forced labor can build a pyramid that can stand the test of time, but I'm not so sure about a bed.
The LEGO bed was assembled and we were left to stare at it with our photo of the pediatric and geriatric crafters. That was the night I added to my list of bone-chilling terrors: snakes, stepping on something sticky with my bare feet, germs...and this damn bed crashing down on me in my sleep.
Over the years, I'd convinced myself it was impossible for this bed to collapse and crush my ribcage while I slumbered. When I read Breaking Dawn, I pictured the honeymoon bed to look very IKEA-ish with simple lines, etc. You know, not at all like the bed I fear will kill me eventually. I also was under the impression Edward just left huge divots in the headboard from his fierce lovemaking. That brings us up to the Breaking Dawn trailer release date. The last thing I expected to see was a bed that looked eerily like mine crashing down and undoubtedly killing Bella while she was polishing Edward's love stick.
That's when the nightmares started. Mr. TK can not get enough of me punching him in the face while flailing at 3 A.M. I've had nightmares about this fucking headboard scene (no pun intended) every single night since I saw the trailer. This goddamned teen movie has turned into Saw VII for me. I hate you, Summit. I hate you with the passion of a thousand fiery suns.