Since I am single, it made perfect sense to sleep on one of the single beds. What made NO SENSE, was sleeping in the middle of one of the triple bunk beds in the room the three amigos shared. These are the actual beds. NOW take a GOOD LOOK at the middle bunk!
If you look at the bed carefully, you will note the middle bunk is above hip level and there is approximately 20 inches between the mattress top and the bottom of the bed above. This means I must somehow get my leg on the bed and carefully winch the remainder of my body on the mattress. Think it over--because of the low ceiling--you cannot put your head in first. I finally got it down to a fine science. You stand on your tip toes, pull your leg up to the mattress--all while groaning--and then grab the other side of the mattress in a death grip to hoist your horizontal body onto the bed in a belly flop move. It was a lovely sight-worthy of Olympic qualification!
Once in the bed, you begin to identify with an all beef patty on a fully loaded burger. NOT much wiggle room to boast about!
To add to the comfort level, the parents taught their offspring to sleep with a commercial sized fan blowing in their room--something about white noise. They make small machines that make white noise, but for some strange reason, they wanted their children to learn to sleep in gale force winds.
It is most closely described as sleeping in a hurricane testing wind tunnel.
This Little Man is prone to rolling and was sleeping on the bottom bunk while the two older boys were on the tip top--with their noses inches from the ceiling.
One night there is a loud T H U M P---obviously someone has fallen off the bed---and I sit straight up-----W H A M !!! my head hits the bunk above. I fall out of my own bunk--looking for the injured body in the dark wind tunnel. There is the Little Man standing by his bed already up after his roll to the floor. I asked, "Did you fall off the bed?" WELL DUH--He says "Yeah" and then I asked, "Are you hurt?"---"No". I lift him up to my bed and slither my trembling body up beside him. Thankfully my heart was pounding so fast, I did not even notice how bad my head hurt.
The other nights were not quite so lively, all I had to worry about was the Little Man wandering out of the room. I caught him in mid flight the first couple of nights and reeled the runner back in and put him in my bed. That would entail me having to bicep curl him into my bed from a prone position. Who needs a gym while sleeping with this crew!
He finally learned I was there and would come and stand by my bed--eye level until I woke with a start. Putting him back in bed with me---via bicep curl (it's that are get out of the bed and have to hoist myself back into it)we would then wrestle the covers for the rest of the night.
The final night I get the brilliant idea to just get in the bed with the Little Man. This closely resembled sleeping on the floor with a lump filled pad for cushioning, and of course, the next morning, you have to haul your old stiff body off the floor into a close to vertical position.
I came home so rested--and SWEARING---NO MORE BUNK BEDS!!
He will yet fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouting.