When I was a child my sister and I had bunk beds. I was on the top and she was on the bottom. We didn’t have a very big house and by sharing a bedroom we got to have a playroom which we loved.
I had a couple of problems sharing a bunk bed.
1. My sister would kick me through the wire base and I’d shoot up in the air and she found this really funny. Sometimes if she couldn’t sleep she would just do this to make herself laugh (and wake me up.) I understandably never found this very funny.
2. I didn’t like going down the ladder to the toilet at night but it was a rickety, shortish ladder and this was about 35 years ago I think they are made a bit differently now.)
Photo credit: Brett Jordan
On the plus side there were huge benefits:
- I could sneak a torch up there and my book and my mum rarely bothered to check up so I got way with t,
- 2. My big sister who I worshipped would spend ages talking and playing with and whispering to me at night
- I felt safe up on the top bunk.
- My dad would sit and read to us and because I was on the top bunk I could lean down and see the pictures even when the book faced him.
We are better off than my mum and dad were and our kids are (in my opinion) extremely lucky to have a bedroom each. HOWEVER they would absolutely love to have bunk beds. To spend hours whispering and giggling together, playing games, sharing stories and secrets. When we go on holiday as a family sharing a room, bunk beds specifically, is often one of their highlights. I have a boy of 7 and a girl of 4. There are, I think, only a few years left that he will want to share with her before he gets spotty, hormonal and private.
Should I let them build some fab memories or will neither of them (or me) ever get a good night’s sleep again?
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