To Make A Bed . . . or not
To Make A Bed . . . or not
Do you make your bed each day? Do you leave your bed crisp and neat?
You know it’s the dead of winter when all we can discuss is making our beds.
I read a study on those who make their beds each day versus those who don’t. Clearly the study had been written by Betty because those who made their beds were the winner and she’s the bed-maker-extraordinaire. I’ve known her a fair amount of time (like since my birth) and have never found her with an unmade bed. Ever.
Making our bed was one of Betty’s house rules. Right along with no smoking, drinking, or carousing. Tom built us a swimming pool and converted the basement into a game room. We had a Kelvinator refrigerator, 16″ black and white Zenith TV, celery green Naugahyde sofa, a black Naugahyde chair that spun in circles, and a ping-pong table.
This remodel came after the chinchilla phase that was going to make us gazillionaires passed. Chinchillas are little gray rats whose fur is silky soft and used for coats. Expensive coats.
Cages were built and stacked up head high. Food and accoutrements stored nearby. Each chinchilla had his own room. It takes about 100 pelts to make one coat. And they only have 2-3 babies about twice a year.
Unlike mice–who can pop out a dozen babies every month.
Plus, chinchillas have bad teeth and are whackos. They can get sad or nervous or anxious. All in all… terrible pets. Ditto financial investments.
So, we got a game room. It’s 1970. We are the Joneses!
We had pool parties. Music, hamburgers, sodas, chips. By my senior year in high school, 1973, I even wore a 2-piece bathing suit.
In 8th grade, I wanted a hip-hugging 2-piece. It was scandalous. My belly button was exposed!
The conversation went something like this: (Betty and I were in the pre-teen’s dressing room at Rich’s department store.)
Me: “I like this one.”
(This one being mint green and white stripes with tucks and buttons on the top similar to a shirt and 1″ shoulder straps. The bottom had a 2″ wide mint green belt with white plastic buckle. The sides were 5″ wide from the leg opening to the waist. BUT! It sat just below my belly button.)
Betty (in shock): “That’s just too revealing. I can see your belly button.”
(There was no mention of cleavage, as I had none.)
Me: “But this is what everyone is wearing. Pleease.”
Betty: “Your father will never let you be seen in that. Try something else. This one looks just like it.”
And I ended up with the one-piece version. I was not a particularly rebellious child at this point.
Betty: “That’s more appropriate.”
We were known to carouse on occasion. We just caroused appropriately.
That 70s Show? That was pretty much what my life looked like. Tom and Betty were more in tune with us kids than Red and Kitty. And Betty and Tom never cussed. Tom never “kicked our ass,” as Red is so fond of saying. But if we stepped out of line, they could instill the fear of God in us with a mere look in their eye.
Back to the bed. House Rule: Make bed each day. We made our beds before leaving for school. She changed the sheets every Friday, so we got that day off. I didn’t realize how wonderful it was coming home to a room that had miraculously cleaned itself—until I was an adult and found out that if I didn’t clean it? It waited for me.
Note the verbs I used in the second and third sentences above. Make. Made.
Present tense and past tense. Betty still makes her bed. I do not. My kids don’t. I don’t think my guys’ daughters make their beds either.
My guy is 6′ 1″ tall. Our king size bed is 80″ long. That only leaves him 7″ tip to tip for foot and pillow space. He doesn’t like the foot covers tucked in because they bind his feet. I get that.
I’m 5″ 4″ tall. I have loads of space at both ends on the mattress. And I hold the covers when I turn over. When I roll over, I hold the covers and turn over under them. My guy rolls. Period. What covers were on top of him are now under him. The covers that were on me are gone and he’s a rolled burrito of blankets.
All of this requires me to not just flip covers in place in the morning, but pull everything off the bed, untangle it all, and remake the bedding from scratch. Pull, shake, fluff, smooth, and tuck. 10 minutes minimum!
According to that study, 60% of the world makes their bed. Another article offered 13 steps to the perfectly made bed. The author even suggests that we iron our sheets.
Don’t think so.
I also noticed in any of the articles on bed-making . . . it was always the women who made the beds. Men didn’t seem to care. Or make the bed.
I sleep in a dozen or so different hotels each month. I love fresh, cool, crisp sheets on a well-made bed waiting for me each night. I like a neat room. Unfortunately, we don’t live that way. Our bedroom is fairly organized and picked up, and I change the sheets almost every week. I aim for that.
I do make up our guest bed. I’ve not finished this room. I’m still looking for a dust ruffle and curtain panel on the door. No ironed sheets.
Therefore, I’ve decided to give you three steps to making your bed each morning.
After you get out of bed, while you dress, drink coffee, or push everyone out the door, leave your covers pulled back to air out your sheets.
If you decide to make it, here’s a thought. . . or 3:
Fluff your pillows and toss into place. Pull up your sheets and blankets. Option #1: Use a bedspread and cover everything up.
Option #2: Use a fluffy comforter and cover everything up.
On second thought? There’s no need to make the stinking bed.
Here’s our bed right now, as well as yesterday and tomorrow:
This is as good as it gets when I change sheets:
At least, they’re clean.
Did you know hand sanitizer is flammable?
It can substitute for gel fuel in a patio fire pot. In my opinion, it’s not as good as gel fuel, but it does work.