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Rated: E · Prose · Family · #1819006
We give away our son's bunkbeds.
The neat stack of brown stained pinewood boards, two small headboards with built-in bookcases, and bag of hardware rests on the back porch as it awaits its move to a new home. It could mourn forlornly the end of the era that was its usefulness to two small boys now grown to full-sized adults. It had provided rest, comfort, security, warmth as well as performed as play mat, fort, sickbed as the occasion warranted.

The little bunk-bed was the repository of so many memories of boyhood. Riotous giggles rang out across the bed as pillow fights erupted between the brothers. Mock retreats were constructed from blankets hung over the rail of the upper bed creating a warm, dark alcove for dreaming, and playing. Bedtime stories with dramatized voices and suspenseful action were savored from the comfort of the familiar mattresses and comforters.

So many books were devoured while little men sprawled over the bed. And, as the years passed, the young bodies grew until they no longer fit the confines of childhood's bunk-bed. Today, the young adults are far away pursuing manhood's plans.

Yet, there are other little boys awaiting the fun of clamoring up the wooden ladder and secreting away treasured tomes in the headboard bookshelves.

With great anticipation, therefore, the sturdy bunk-bed is ready to resume its centering role in a new home.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1819006