My brother and I shared a room for a time when we were kids. It seemed okay when he was small and in a crib or even when he got into his first real bed.
But as we grew it seemed we needed a bit more space so, our beds were converted into bunk beds.
At first I was amazed at how much room we now had to play and store our toys. But it wasn’t long before the novelty of the bunkbeds wore off.
It started with my brother’s overall nagging to be on the top bunk.
Then there was the movement of the entire bed when he flipped around in the lower bunk as if he was competing in nightly wrestling matches.
Also, I liked to read myself to sleep at night. When both our beds were at ground level I had access to a lamp that hung on the wall beside mine.
It was at a perfect height and gave off just the right amount of light to read by.
But now there wasn’t enough space for the lamp to fit between the mattress and the ceiling.
It was apparent to me that a change needed to be made.
I checked out the laundry room where miscellaneous household items such as camping gear, suitcases, Christmas boxes and other seasonal stuff were stored.
I mentally measured the space to see if it was big enough for me to move into.
But the big question was, where would the existing stuff go?
I knew that was something I needed to work out before I asked my parents if I could move in.
The small room had no door, and of course was going to be used daily by my mother for laundry.
Even so, these small details could not deter me from pitching the idea to my folks.
My dad was all for the idea. He even helped me by making a new storage shelf in the space above the stairs going down into the cellar.
I helped him fill that shelf to the brim with just about all the contents of the laudry room.
After giving my new room a good scrubbing we lugged in my bed and dresser and the rest of my stuff.
The first night I laid in bed in that room with no door and no brother and listened to the dryer run.
I could hardly sleep because of the excitement of having my own space.
There is something special about having your own space or place.
Up until this point in my life my special places were all outdoors—in a tree, atop a large rock, or beside some flowing creek.
These were places that I considered my own. But now I had a room, a room where there were no problems with things such as bunk beds.
Mitch Lee, Adirondack native & storyteller, lives at Inlet. ltmitch3rdny@aol.com