When I was five years old, to accommodate our growing family my parents boughtt Adam and I a bunk bed. He took the top, I took the bottom. Around this same time Stephen and Matthew reported hearing strange noises (in the form of a red-eyed lion, mind you) coming from their bedroom in the basement. Despite my mom's protests and reassurances that there was no such creation in our basement Stephen and Matthew decided to move upstairs to the room I was sharing with Adam.
At five years old I believed everything my 11 year old brother told me and was thoroughly convinced for several years our basement was hiding a red-eyed lion lurking in a corner just ready to pounce. So when the four of us started sharing one bunk bed I didn't protest. For me, it was like a sleepover with my best friends every night. My brothers might not remember our shared room so fondly, as I had a penchant for lining every square inch of our bed space with our toys and my dolls, but for the two years that we shared the space I'd like to think we had a fun time.
This weekend my suitemates and I have been thrown into the mix of involuntary displacement (due to a burst pipe--not a red-eyed lion) and I once again find myself sharing a bunk bed with one of my favorite people, but this time from the top bunk.
Michelle