The Bed

Mom- this post is for you! (And yes, that really is my bed.)

Growing up, there was always a constant battle between my Mom and I. The bed. She wanted my bed made every day. I didn't (and still don't) see the point. She would say she hated to walk by and see and unmade bed. My solution- close the door. I would remind her that it was my room and she would always trump me with the fact that it was her house. I still don't remember actually making it much. Usually it was the obligatory throw of the comforter over it all to at least cover it up. As an adult I still rarely make my bed and I don't force my kids to make their's either. I mean, what's the point? It's not like reusing a dirty dish or putting on dirty clothes. I still sleep great in it at the end of the day.
A couple of days ago we had a home visit from our adoption caseworker. It was one of those visits where they tour your house, go through your cupboards, and ask tons of personal, uncomfortable questions. Feeling totally inadequate, I decided I had better make my bed for the occasion. It only took a few minutes and it looked really nice! As I admired it, I thought, "Hey, maybe I'll make this again tomorrow!". As I left the room I thought it couldn't hurt to listen to Mom and maybe TRY to make it once in a while. I went downstairs to check the boys rooms and Nate proudly proclaimed "I made my bed! If my bed is made and my room is nice she will probably want to give us a baby". As I stood there thinking of the hundreds of reasons that she might not want to give us a baby, bed making didn't really make the list. So- sorry Mom. The kids still don't have to make their beds and I haven't made mine since. Steve has though, so maybe there is hope for me yet.