We got bunk beds for the boys. This followed a concerted campaign by Michael who insisted that they were essential for his happiness. To be fair, I also felt that it was time that my four year old sons got out of their cots. Michael steered the delivery men into his room. He was quite cross when they wouldn’t move the other furniture so that the bunk beds could be fitted into the selected alcove. I went upstairs having seen the men out, to find Michael lying weeping on his bed. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked. “What will happen to my bed? Please don’t give away my bed that I’ve had since I was a tiny baby.” Oh dear.
While they were far too big for their cots, they look very small in the bunk beds.
Please tell me that wasn’t what you used your very large birthday gift voucher for – unless it was a case of needing Massive Mummy Peace inside.
Cots to bunks? The will soon grow (and grow and grow)
Sending care and huggles, Michelle xxx
How have you decided who gets the Top Bunk?
No, no, Michelle, I am far too mean to ever do that. You may sleep easily you kind hearted person.
Sarah, the boy who has never wet the bed is in the top bunk.