I am enchanted by an all-white bed. More than enchanted, disabled. It’s hard for me to get out of bed no matter its color - but an all-white bed is something else.
My parents’ bed was usually dressed in white growing up. I loved being in it. It felt huge and soft and full of love. I knew I would have a white bed when I grew up.
Except I don’t! I can’t handle it. If I had a white bed I would also have atrophied muscles and a bed pan. For me it was similar to thinking I would only ever eat Swedish Fish for dinner when I grew up. Oh well.