On Bunk Beds

Recently we rearranged the girls' bedrooms to accommodate for a new piece of furniture in our house: bunk beds.  Here are some thoughts.

Do you consider "bunk beds" to be singular or plural?  (As in, is my opening sentence grammatically incorrect?  Should I have written "new pieces of furniture" even though it's one entity that happens to hold two beds?  Have you ever looked at a sentence so long that it not only looks ungrammatical, but it also looks as if it's no longer written in your primary language?  I'm hitting that point.  Moving on.)

Bunk beds are as awesome as you remember them to be from your childhood.  Unless, of course, you had a traumatic experience with a bunk bed that scarred you and forever made you wary of heights, ladders, or sleepovers.

Recognize the limitless depth of a two-year-old's trust.  Apply this knowledge when that two-year-old is on the top bunk and you're standing nearby.  Expect to catch her if she decides to leap into your arms, or (more accurately) when she decides to leap into your arms.

When sitting in the lower bunk, you'll remind yourself not to bump your head when you sit up.  You'll still bump your head when you sit up.

Changing the sheets on the upper bunk will count as your exercise for the day.  As you're wrangling the fitted corners, you'll question the feasibility of the task.  Can one really put a sheet on a bed when you're on top of that very bed on all fours?  You'll maneuver your body in odd ways, as if you're trying to levitate, kind of like when you bite into food that's too hot and attempt to make that bite hover without touching your tongue or the roof of your mouth.  Somehow, despite physics and all odds, you'll secure the sheet.  You'll never want to change it again.

Do you have any bunk bed observations?


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