Trundle Bed

When I was a child, the grandmother bed was in the second real bedroom in the small home in which we lived. That is, it was on the first floor in a room you had to go through to get to the attic stairs. And that's where my sister and I slept. The bed was on the wall between the two windows. Dad kept his "closet" -- a vintage Victorian wardrobe -- in that room, as well as his ties and belts. His underwear and PJs were stored in the small bedroom he shared with my mother and whatever baby was in the crib at that time.

Well, mom and dad now had four children and had to decide where to place them so they'd have their own bedroom back to themselves. So it was decided that my sister and I and the bed would be moved to the attic and my brothers would be put in the other downstairs bedroom -- the room through which one had to pass to get to the attic. Carl was still in a crib and that was moved into that room, and mom decided they would get a trundle bed for the "boys." Dad wasn't thrilled with that idea, and I don't recall why he was opposed to it, but they discussed it loudly (for them) for quite a few minutes. Mom finally won. And they got a trundle bed.

I don't know why anyone would care about this, it just a remembrance I had in bed last night. But that trundle bed became the sleeping place(s) for my brothers. When Carl left the crib, left the head-banging ability of the crib -- he used to bang his head against the wall when he wanted a drink and say something that sounded like "Where's the bottle." -- the underneath bed was moved to where the crib had been, so the boys weren't real close to each other at sleep time.

Just thought you might want to know this tidbit, this small remembrance of living in a very small house with one bathroom and six people.