Anyway, one thing that happens is that obviously these poor souls are not feeling their best. If they were, I wouldn't be coming to see them. So they don't always do the cleaning that they are used to doing, and then they hate to have me see it. They're apologizing and asking that I please not look at their mess. I can honestly tell them that I don't really notice their mess (it's true, because the people with the houses that I notice have ceased to see the mess and don't make comments like that). It's especially bad when I tell them that I need to see how they do getting up and down from the bed. Oh, heavens! If they haven't gotten their bed made, they practically beg me not to judge them for being so sloppy. And that's when I invariably scandalize them. I should probably keep my mouth shut. When I say the words, I probably lose all credibility with them whatsoever. Better judgement rarely prevails, and the words come spilling out:
"I often don't get my bed made."
Horrors! Scandal! Vapors!
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not proud of my sloppiness, but it clearly doesn't bother me all that much or I would do something about it. I assure them that my mama had better sense and tried all my life to instill a bed making habit in me, but some children are simply too rebellious for good parenting to overcome.
I must not be too much of a crazy sleeper, because the bed is ready and waiting for me each night. I'm thinking if my sheets were all twisted, I'd get my act together in a hurry.
You know, I really should try again to make a habit of this. Someday, I would like to be married, and I really don't want my husband to have to put up with a perpetually unmade bed. Also, it would be very hard to tell my children to make their beds if mine was never made.
Although, the last time I tried to form this habit, I happened to see a special on TV where they showed a dust mite up close and personal. Then they told about how a made up bed provided the perfect environment for these boogers to grow and multiply. They actually have more hostile living conditions when the bed is unmade. Umm, I dropped my resolution after that. I don't think it was really the bugs. I think the bugs just made me feel a lot better about my laziness.
Okay. I understand if your opinion of me has dropped a little bit. I mean, who in civilized society doesn't make their bed regularly? Still, I hope you don't write me off completely.
My poor ladies, though. I have forever confirmed in their minds why there is so much wrong with the world. I don't think I make them feel any better about the fact that their own beds aren't made- this once when they can barely move because of the pain- (my intent in saying that to them), but at least it distracts them from their own troubles when they realize how much of a savage beast I am.