My two daughters, aged 14 and 12, share a bedroom. There’s a bunk bed in the room. (The fourteen year-old sleeps on the top bunk and the twelve year-old on the bottom bunk.) There are two desks: one facing the east window toward the back yard and one facing the north window toward the side yard. There are two tall book cases, two swiveling desk chairs and a lot of miscellaneous girl stuff.

Yesterday morning my oldest daughter was stitting at her desk at the beginning of the day; she was trying to read her Bible quietly. She was facing away from the rest of the room and attempting to shut out any distractions (read: sister noises). It was then that her sister called to her. Her sister was in the same room and she didn’t use a loud voice, but she called all the same, “Maria?” she said.

Maria was trying to concentrate and she didn’t want to be rude, but she also didn’t want to engage in a conversation. So without turning to face her sister, she replied, “Please, could you not talk to me right now? I’m trying to read. So if you just wouldn’t talk to me…” There was a slight pause. Then younger sister, even more softly, but with a peculiar pleading in her voice repeated, “Uh…Maria?”

Maria turned around. Her sister was stuck part of the way out and part of the way under the bunk beds! She was trying not to disturb Maria, but she simply could not extricate herself without help.

“How did you get her out?!” I asked when they told me the story.

“I had to lift up the bunk bed,” Maria replied.

“But why was she under the bed in the first place?” my husband queried.

“Retrieving some wayward legos.”