Are you ready for this? If you’re not single, you’re going to be TOTALLY envious! Like, I mean, it’s, like, y’know that TOTALLY AWESOME! Like totally.
Yeah, I really can’t pull off the Valley Girl talk.
Here it is…
My big secret…
I sleep in a loft bed…and it’s pretty much the greatest bed ever. The only bed that would be better? One that’s built into it’s own little cupboard, like in Santa Claus The Movie.
I was an only child, so bunk beds only became part of my life when I was at camp or visiting friends. I learned early on that the top bunk was the best part of the bunk bed experience. Also, you looked incredibly brave if you were willing to jump from the top bunk to the floor. Who cared about the shooting pains that ran up your legs when you landed feet first on a concrete basement floor? You looked brave and cool.
Well, a loft bed, is just the top bunk, and you can do whatever you want with the space underneath. In fact, it opens up a lot of space in a room (especially if you have a long narrow room, like I do). Yes, underneath the loft is a great place to store all the boxes that I am refusing to unpack, even though I’ve been home for over a year. (Side note: yes, those boxes should be unpacked by now, but I have issues.)
Before I completely sell you on the concept of loft beds, let me point out that there is one giant negative about them if you are no longer a kid…
I always prided myself on my bladder control, and while that control has not lapsed, I’ve noticed in the last couple of years that if I drink things after ten p.m., I’ll find myself needing to get up in the middle of the night to find the bathroom (conveniently located across the hall). When I’m awoken by this urge at three or four in the morning, I will usually lay in bed considering my options, arguing with my brain.
Brain: You need to pee.
Me: Really? I know I’m uncomfortable, but maybe if I ignore it, I can get back to sleep.
Brain: What kind of moronic idea is that?
Me: I don’t want to climb down the ladder, or stumble through my room in the dark.
Brain: You know, if you would clean this disaster area you call a room, it wouldn’t be such a scary thing to walk through it in the dark.
Me (in my best whiny inside my head voice): I’m an adult! My room can be a mess if I want it to be!
Brain: Whatever. Stop whining. You need to pee.
Me: I’m pretty sure I can just get back to sleep. Just wish it didn’t feel like my bladder is going to explode.
Brain: You know that is a sign that you need to pee.
Me: Shut up and let me sleep.
Brain (impersonating Sheldon Cooper): Waterfalls…PEEING!
Me: You’re not quoting it correctly.
Brain: I don’t care, subliminal messaging…
Me: Crap, you win.
As you can see, it’s a very dramatic conversation to have in the wee hours of the morning. And now, you all know that I’ve reached that magical point in my life where urinating has become a much larger part of my life than it used to be. Also, I may have some unresolved issues regarding unpacking.
And no, I don’t know why I shared this little “gem” with the world. At least I’m not making out with sledgehammers.
Nobody can beat me wife for peeing. Seriously. And to top it all it was her idea a while back, when we were fostering and everybody was moving rooms, that she and I should sleep upstairs in the loft. Not on a loft bed, but in the loft.
She will go downstairs in the middle of the night for the toilet, come back upstairs, lie down, then say:”I need to go again.”
I reply :”Why don’t you just take your pillow with you to sleep in the bathroom?”
We play this out each night.