When I was a kid in Kansas summers were hot. And humid. And there never seemed to be a breeze.

I shared a room with my three sisters. The ceilings were sloped and we had two army-issue metal bunk beds, thank goodness I had a bottom bunk so I didn’t bank my head on the ceiling multiple times a day.

When it was really hot all eight kids would go downstairs and get our pillows, which were really old towels and rags stuffed into the pillowcase, and we’d flop down on sheets on the hard wood floor that needed replacing. It was beyond refinishing.

My mom found some old oscillating fans at Goodwill and we’d line them up and wait for those pitiful breezes to hit us for those few, glorious minutes. They made more noise than air, but we’d luxuriate in whatever we got and somehow fall asleep. No matter how hot it got, we’d gravitate towards each other and throw our arms and legs over and around each other, almost like puppies, and cuddle together.

If it was especially sticky one or more of us would sneak back up past our mom’s bedroom and go into the girls’ room and pull up the screen-less, paint stuck window onto the room and sleep outside. It was cooler out there, but, see paragraph two. The roof was sloped. Adult Carmen knows this was unsafe. Kid Carmen just knew it was hot in a house filled with kids and noise.

I’ll tell you a secret. It wasn’t the most comfortable of beds. And when I lived in the Africa we slept on the roof of our mud hut. And while it was not sloped, it wasn’t much more comfortable on my thin woven mat.

I survived Kansas heat and stupidity and I survived Africa nights.

I wish I could say there was some great doggy lesson I learned and want to share with you. No, I just saw this meme and it reminded me of sleeping roofs in my life.

Beds are better. Way better.