[_choof]

when I was a kid, somewhere around 6 or 7 years old, I had a bunk bed that I shared with my younger brother. since I was older, I, of course, maintained control of the top bunk. it was my perch, from which I oversaw all the happenings of our bedroom. until that fateful night.... we were supposed to be getting ready for bed, as it was a school night. me being the incessant ball of energy and parental frustration that I was at that age, I felt like I didn't need the sleep, and instead, decided to jump around on my bed. on the top bunk.
one slip on my blanket was all it took. I fell forward, completely unaware of my surroundings, as it was dark and I stupidly had my blanket over my head. in one moment I saw nothing, the next, stars. I had slipped and bashed my mouth on the blue metal railing of our bunk bed, hard, immediately knocking out several teeth, a few of which lodged themselves into my bottom lip. as I'm screaming bloody murder, my mom rushes in and gives me this horrific look, pulls me right off the top bunk and into the kitchen, where she begins stuffing paper towels into my mouth as she calls 911.
all in all, I lost 5 of my teeth, my lip required multiple stitches, and for a very long time, if I smiled too hard, the scar would cause the left side of my bottom lip to turn white. that doesn't happen anymore, but if you know what you're looking for, you can still see the part of my lip that was damaged. apparently an ex girlfriend could feel it when we would kiss too.

anyway, I've come to appreciate the bottom bunk.