My bed just sits in my room. A wall at the head of the bed and a wall to my left. I have no where to put my toys and reading material other than in my bed with me. My parents do not seem to care that I often awake with toys jabbing me in the side or worse so near my face that they are dampened with condensation from my nightly mouth breathing.
My mother has this magical table right near her bed. It holds books, her phone, and her glasses. This is ideal. I can walk into her room first thing in the morning, grab the phone and demand to watch videos. If I knock her glasses to the floor to some unreachable spot that's too far for her to see, she may collapse in irratitaion and let me watch something on the phone. However, I feel that she is far to stingy with the magic box that plays cartoons, so I often have to resort to books. I have covered her Pulitzer Prize nominated book with the board book of Are You My Mother?- a classic story about a lost bird and snort. You should check it out. I have also crowed the night stand with such treasures as used tissues, a marble that she said I couldn't have, and a sock. My mother seriously does not know how to use her little side table efficiently-her books have no pictures, the little dish of earrings is "too pokey" and the lamp is just green- no animals, no design, nothing! If I had a bedside table I would treat it right. Pile it high with papers, cups, toys, dirty clothes, and even my pet fish, Hula.
So mom, if you're reading this, give up your table. I already covered it in my stuff making it basically already mine. Perhaps you could get dad to go ahead a move it over to my room? Thanks. Oh, and I'll get you the rent check next month- the stick collecting market is flooded right now and isn't paying too well.
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