When I was the age of around 5 - 5.5, my mum bought me and my then 15 year old brother a bunk bed. After putting it together, I claimed the bottom bunk being a rather wussy child.

Fast forward 15 years, my brother has long moved out and left most of what he owned in the spare-room of this house...and I still used the cramped old bunk bed.

One morning, while making a post on the then rather active Mighty Justice forum complaining about the bunkbed, it dawned on me...my brothers queen bed was under his pile of still in the spare room. It was dis-assembled, but a bed can't be TOO hard to put together, right?

So I set out on my quest; gathered the necessary parts to form a bed, and started working on pulling apart the old bunk.

A few hours later, the bunk was dis-assembled...and slightly broken due to the cramped conditions of my room, but who cares, NEW BED!

I bought all the queen-bed parts into my room and started to put them together. I started off by propping up one of the large poles vertically, but my nose started to tickle and I sneezed...headbutting the pole.





I was knocked out for a few minutes until my mum walked in to help me.