Since I abandoned the bedroom at the end of the hall and moved to the basement it has seen quite a few changes.
My Brother’s Bedroom
Felix was already living in this room with me when my Dad built the bedroom in the basement. Once I was out all he had to do was rearrange his stuff. I don’t recall much about how the room looked under Felix’s reign, but I’m sure it was special. I assume it was the same basic layout with one of the bunk beds (both?), his desk and then clothes and toys in the close.
Once Felix moved on dark times fell over the room. It has become known as the “submarine” and most recently, the “Swiss” room. We’ll get into the naming more, but rest assured that submarine and swiss room are not terms of endearment.
It’s purpose has changed as well. Initially, a bedroom and a sniper’s hiding spot, the room is now sort of a home office and display area for Dad’s many “goodies.”
Going back to the “sniper’s hiding spot” will bring back memories of my Dad shooting rabbits who were dining in the garden.
Clark + pellet gun = danger
For Peter Cottontail and Co my Dad was the enemy. I don’t recall how many rabbits Dad got, but I’m sure more than a few.
I’m sure you looked at “submarine” and wondered “what the heck does that mean?” Well, it’s actually not that complicated. As the goodies moved in the walls just moved continually closer. You’re probably aren’t familiar with this concept unless you’re a hoarder, but it’s real… very real.
While the items are very neatly stacked on shelves and meticulously arranged that does not change the fact that there is a lot of stuff in the room. A whole lot of stuff.
As I write I’m also reminded of a pretty funny story regarding our old family dog, Sambo. Sambo was a beagle and in his later years was a little finicky about going to the bathroom. Raining outside? He didn’t want to go out. Cold? No way… not going out. The sun isn’t shining from the right direction? Nope, not setting foot outside.
My Dad was familiar with the game and it was time for Sambo to go before bed. My Dad lets Sambo out of the house, into the garage, with the thought that Sambo would eventually give in and head out to the backyard to do his business.
After letting Sambo out my Dad raced back to the submarine to look out the window and check on Sambo’s progress. Things weren’t happening fast enough and I could hear (from the basement) my Dad yelling to my Mom that Sambo was NOT out in the yard. After a couple minutes of watching, waiting and yelling Dad ran back to the garage to check things out.
In opening the door to the garage and looking out he noticed the problem… the back door was not open, thus, Sambo couldn’t get into the yard. Dad headed toward the door to open it and let Sambo out. Along the way… he stepped in Sambo’s “business.” Fresh, my Dad barefoot… nice.
I think at this point if you’re my Dad, you have to laugh, so you don’t cry. Sure, you’re ready to boil over in frustration, but at the same time I’m sure you can help but see the irony here. Honestly, I don’t recall how my Dad dealt with it, but Sambo lived on and my Dad likely just washed his feet.
The room is still both the Swiss Room and the submarine. The walls continue to move closer with no end in sight. I guess if it makes my Dad happy, hoarder or not, it’s probably okay.