As I say, it all started when we went off to buy a new bed.
Now for the uninitiated, buying a bed is really very similar to buying a new shirt. You try heaps on before you settle on the one that fits just right, except you don't take 10 beds to the changing rooms first and then have to come out and parade in front of your wife and 20 other shoppers.
So, there we are at the bed shop and there are row upon row of beds and mattresses to try, all just waiting for us to lay down on.
For this expedition, Mrs P and I are joined by the pregnant Boomerang Child and we are being assisted in the possible purchase by a delightfully animated young lady.
Against the wall near the main entrance is a row of three beds, one single and two pushed together, with differing levels of mattress plushness, so we grab one each as the shop assistant runs through their various virtues.
Mrs P is on the left, I'm in the centre and Boomerang Child is on the right, nearest the door.
It turns out Mrs P's bed has a special massage function and before you know what is happening her bed is vibrating as vigorously as the shop assistant is excitedly extolling its virtues.
And then Mrs P starts to giggle.
Next to her my super soft mattress has all but swallowed me up and it's a struggle to move but I'm concerned my wife's hysterics might be catching so I manage to turn on my side away from her.
As I do I catch sight of the growing bump of the Boomerang Child on the mattress next to me.
Now for those who have experienced the sheer delight of pending grandfatherhood you will understand this. If not, bear with me.
We haven't seen Boomerang Child in a week or so and, up to now, the baby bump hasn't really been that visible. Now, all of a sudden there it is. It's like a "wow, this is really happening!" moment.
I make no excuses for it. I'm a gushing goo of sentimentality when it comes to this sort of stuff so I ask if I can put my hand on the glowing girl's belly to feel the bump.
At this point the shop assistant has seen me pat the belly and worked out what's occurring. She shrieks with delight.
Her joy is seen and heard by a couple of other shoppers and another Asian shop assistant and they all converge on the trio of beds, adding to a scene which is fast looking like it is straight out of a Carry On movie.
And it needed someone to take a picture.
So now we've got Mrs P laying there vibrating and giggling hysterically, me in the middle trying to extricate myself from a mattress that is trying to suck me back down like quicksand, and the Boomerang Child laying uncomfortably (literally) on the end with, now, two Asian ladies hovering over her chattering away in their mother tongue and pointing excitedly at the baby bump.
If you had walked in the shop right there and then you would swear it was one of those television prank shows, such was the chaos.
Eventually I manage to 'swim' to safety and rush round to make sure the Boomerang Child is okay.
Clearing the crowd away, I help her to her feet and make sure she's okay, while simultaneously explaining the pregnancy to the two shop assistants who, it has to be said, were genuinely delighted for the cherub.
Then I realised Mrs P was still going through her own difficulties a short way away, her bad back making it impossible to bale out of the still vigorously vibrating bed. Luckily we managed to stop the shaking before the giggling caused her to run out of oxygen.
As you do, we told the shop assistant we'd give it some thought and I bundled my two exhausted girls into the car for the ride home.
Whether it was the heat, the pregnancy or the vibrating bed I know not but both were sound asleep, mouths wide agape, within five minutes of beginning the ride home.
If I'd remembered the camera on my phone I reckon that would have been a perfect picture and conversation starter too.
The second one of the day.
• Kevin Page is a teller of tall tales with a firm belief too much serious news gives you frown lines. Feel free to share stories to editor@whanganuichronicle.co.nz (Kevin Page in subject field) .
