Room-Mates?
Following on from the Home Truths revelations about 'going errr...' in order to get to sleep, Roz Dace and Helen Colley wrote to Home Truths about sharing bedrooms:
Roz Dace wrote:
My sister Judy and I shared a bedroom with a large line drawn down the middle which mapped out our territories. I owned the window-side of the room and she owned the cupboard and door side. We quarrelled over everything, and kept all our toys and belongings meticulously in our own areas. If her toys fell into my area they became mine, and vice-versa.
She used to 'go errr' in order to get to sleep in a rising and falling monotone, while frantically thrusting one leg rhythmically up and down to produce an odd, twitching movement. Her body jerking was so violent, that the bed would move along the floor nightly and, although it never crossed over the line, it caused us to quarrel even more.
One night, our father, driven to despair, desperately nailed all four legs to the floor, which stopped the bed moving temporarily until the nails were forced out by the constant violent rocking movements.
My sister and I are now the best of friends and are travelling to America next week and are sharing a hotel room. I only hope we suffer no traumas or upsets - or the 'err-uh-ing' could reoccur. I am taking my ear plugs and a large piece of chalk and this time I will make sure I have the door side!
Helen Colley wrote:
I have a twin sister, and we shared a bedroom for 15 years. My Dad was
brilliant at DIY and made all the furniture for our room. We always had
bunk beds, with criss-cross webbing for the foam mattresses
to go on.
As the elder (by 10 minutes), it was my privilege to choose
which bed I had - and I always had the top one. When we were very
small, we each had a destructive bedroom habit to help us get off to
sleep. My sister used to gouge ever-larger holes in the plaster of the wall with a hairgrip.
I used to chew the corner of the curtains, and to this day, the smell of
wet cotton transports me back to that bedroom. I can still remember the
delicious taste of it. However, as we got older, I, to my eternal
shame and mortification, took to bullying my sister. One of the
nastier ways of doing this was to wait until our bedroom light had been
put out, then lift the corner of my mattress and gob on her. I was
disgusting!
At the age of about 14, our room was being re-decorated. Again pulling rank on my twin, I insisted on it being decorated in a ghastly scheme of turquoise and
orange. About a year later, my brother left home and, guess what, I
bagged his room, converting it to deepest purple and leaving my sister
with the garish mess.
I feel deeply ashamed about all this, so I guess I am finally confessing it for cathartic purposes.
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