|My bedroom in Brussels where I was an au-pair
Do you remember when you were staying at your grandmother's house? Or your aunts'? Where did you sleep? Well, I have slept in so many different beds over the years I can hardly keep track. When I stayed at my paternal grandmother's house, I used to share the bed with my brother and later with my sister. And especially in the case of my sister it was quite awful. Since she was six years younger than I was (she still is come to think of it), she had to go to bed way earlier than I did. But the bed we used to sleep in was an old bed and it had sagged terribly in the middle. So, by the time I got to bed, she was slap bang in the middle. The only way to get her out of there was to wake her up: she wasn't happy, I wasn't happy.
My maternal grandmother's was a different story: I used to share the bed with my uncle until I was about twelve and then I either had the single bed or shared again with my sister: a double bed on the floor made up of three small matrasses put together. I can remember actually feeling the floor on several occasions, but that might just be me. It wasn't comfortable by any means anyway.
The very first time I stayed at my friend Janet's place when she was married was a horror: picture those thin foam puzzle pieces that are great as a playmat for children. They do not make a bed! I barely slept and the next day everything hurt. My friend C has a different problem: she has a great double bed I can sleep in, but it is in a room that is very hot and I hate the hot. So, I sleep in a different room on a small single mattrass on the floor. But it's cold in that room which is how I like it.