Trampoline? NOPE!!

No, it was not a trampoline.  It was a little boy's bed.  But that little boy, Bobby Brown, who would one day be my father, was using that bed as a trampoline.

Bounce.  Bounce. Higher bounce.  Higher bounce.

CRASH!!!!

The bed now had only three legs.

Bobby used a typical little-boy solution.  He propped up the bed with some books, and then made a quick exit, announcing that he was going out to play.

Some time later, his mother went into his room, probably to put away his laundry.   Of course, she saw the damage at once.

"Ro-BERT!!!!" she bellowed.

A few minutes later, it was Bobby, [or Ro-BERT!!!] who was yelling!