Bunk Mates

Like many siblings, Brooke and I spent our formative childhood years sharing a room. In such a small space, the only logical sleeping arrangement was to set us up in bunk beds. Being the eldest*, I assumed that I would be given the privilege of the coveted top bunk. (*Even with multiples, there is always an oldest and youngest. A mere two minutes separated my sister and me, and by golly, I used those 120 seconds of additional life experience as a rationale for every argument we had growing up).

My parents, however, believed I could keep a better eye on my baby sister sleeping on the bottom bunk. Oh I kept an eye on her alright; I watched her roll off the bed and onto the floor at least once a week (usually without waking up). The first time it happened, I was sure our positions would be switched as I was a non-moving sleeper. Nope. Instead, they simply scooped her up, placed her back under the covers and went back to bed. This routine went on for over two years. Two years, people!

As anyone can attest, sharing tight quarters heightens all sensitivities and lowers tolerance at an exponential rate. The mere sound of the other person breathing causes your blood pressure to spike to unnaturally high levels. As such, normally petty disagreements morphed into full-scale warfare with innocent toys losing life and limb.

When fighting, the top bunk provided several advantages, the most obvious being the higher ground. Perched five feet from the floor, Brooke could quash any of my attempts to ascend the fortress of our beds.

The bottom bunk did have one unique benefit: an exposed mattress directly above me. As exercise, I would routinely kick the living crap out of the mattress (and her) as she lay there with no protection. After nine years of sharing a bedroom, my parents finally separated us after walking in on Brooke violently slamming my face with a pillow and me kicking the bed above me with enough force to get my loving sister airborne.

Twenty years later, I never thought I would be sleeping on my childhood mattress. And I certainly did not expect to be back in bunk beds, let alone with my husband.

That's right: this past weekend we finally moved into our new home!! After months of paperwork, renovations and inspections, Josh and I can officially call ourselves residents of Westwood Hills Road. In fact, I'm sitting on our new couch, staring out the window at a rafter of turkeys across the street as I write this.

But back to the matter at hand.

Being that I am a terrible sleeping partner (more on that later), Josh made the executive decision that a king bed was necessary to ensure our marriage survived. Problem is, with everything that has been going on, we just haven't had time to buy one. Which is why we are sleeping here for the time being:

Yes ladies and gentlemen, it only took thirty years but I can now claim residence to the coveted top bunk. I don't know about you, but I think that's a pretty awesome way to start off 2013.

Cheers and wishing you all the best in the year ahead!