The Little Things: Do You Make Your Bed?

 JENN McKINLAY: A few years ago, Hooligan 1's band director tasked the entire marching band with a daily chore. Before arriving for zero hour, which was marching band practice, they were to make their bed. 

He got the idea from Navy Seal Admiral McRaven in a commencement address he gave at the University of Texas in Austin. Here's the clip:

Shockingly, the child who usually left half of his bedding on the floor was suddenly not leaving his room until the bed was tight enough to bounce a quarter on. Huh. The theory is that if you make your bed every morning, you will have managed to accomplish your first goal of the day which will carry forward through the rest of the day's tasks. 

 Of course, at our next band parent meeting, there was a mom who stood up and said that making the bed wasn't healthy and her child would not be doing it. She felt that the bedding needed to be aired out and therefore making the bed was a bad thing. Yes, this was the hill she was prepared to die on. (Picture me in the meeting eyerolling and sighing). Although, in all fairness, there is support for not making your bed because of dust mites and dead skin (ew, I know, sorry): Why You Shouldn't Make Your Bed Right Away but they to wait until after breakfast not as this mom insisted that you should never make your bed. I have to say, I never saw this bed making controversy coming!

Now confession time: I love a neatly made bed. There is nothing better than pulling back the sheets and sliding in, however, I am not a very good bed maker. In fact, I intentionally rise early so that Hub is the last one out of the bed and therefore responsible for setting it to rights. On the rare occassion that he's up first, I stall and ignore the jumbled mess, hoping he'll give in and make it when he wanders by. Sometimes he outlasts me and I give in and make the stupid bed, but then I am even more determined to get up first. He has no idea about any of this, so shhhh. 

 So, how about it, Reds? Are you a bed maker? Do you believe that it sets the tone for your day? Or are you more of a free range bedding sort of person and the floor is fine?

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Ooh, I hate an unmade bed. But since I am almost always the first one up, Rick gets that job. He does it passably, although not as well as I would do it, so that I usually do some extra straightening before I get into it at night. On his plus side, he's much better at folding sheets than I am.

Don't you wonder how the kid whose mom said he didn't have to make the bed turned out? And did the bed making expertise stick with the Hooligans? 

JENN: It did with one, Debs, but not the other. I opt to not go into his room anymore -- I just close the door.

LUCY BURDETTE: I don’t like an unmade bed, but if I don’t do it, no one does. (John has many fine qualities but bed-making not one. I just asked him his theory--he said he enjoys getting into a crisply made bed, if someone else made it.) To be fair, I often spend several hours working in bed, so it’s my domain during the day.

The animals in our house do love “helping” make a bed though--especially T-bone, who burrows into the sheets and purrs and purrs.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: When I was little, we had to make our beds or else. We were never sure what “or else”  meant, and no one wanted to find out.

Now, oh, I love getting into a nicely made bed--remember how lovely hotel beds can be?--and I am a happy bed-making helper, but whoa. When I do it on my own, it never looks right. It’s never puffy enough where it’s supposed to be puffy, or flat enough where it’s supposed to be flat.

Jonathan, now, is the KING of bed-making. I am truly not sure how he does it, but it is genius. ALL perfect corners and tight sheets, and it’s quite the talent. We do it together in the morning. I’m not sure we have ever not done it. I can’t imagine just leaving it. It would be too depressing.

(Jenn, tell the hooligans that future girlfriends will be very impressed.) 

RHYS BOWEN:  I say thank God for duvets!  Bed making these days is so easy. Those really deep fitted bottom sheets stay in place. I just shake out the duvet and voila. Bed is made. In Germany when I was a student women hung their bedding out of the window. I imagine it smelled fresh but I’ve never been tempted to do it. Besides I have screens on my windows. 

Like Hank I do love hotel bedding, so cool and smooth. And my own luxury is a silk pillow case, supposedly good for face and hair.

 

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I always make my bed in the morning, with the rare exception that everyone with a cat will recognize - if she settles on the tossed-aside duvet while I'm in the bathroom and falls asleep, by law I'm required to wait to make the bed until after she's gotten up. As for the Karen who didn't want her precious making his or her bed, fuggedaboutit. Let's face it, as disgusting as it sounds, we've all been sleeping around dead skin for as long as there has been bedding, and dustmites (scary!) are doing us a favor by getting rid of it so we don't vanish in a pile of epidermal rejects.

 

The Boy was the absolute worst about making his bed (or keeping his room in any better style than the town dump) so Ross and I wondered what would happen when he joined the Navy. Lo and behold, he came back as The Sailor, and now on visits he helps me make my bed with nice square corners and a tight tuck! Thanks, Adm. McRaven! 

HALLIE EPHRON: Our beds are slept in, thrown together, repeat; and I envy anyone who can make well a bed. 

As for me, I blame it on my parents that I can’t and don’t. And my kids blame it on me that they can’t and don’t, either. I also cannot properly fold sheets to save my life. 

I can, however, make pie crust. And gravy. And write. I can do that, too.

JENN: Always play to your strengths, Hallie, which are many!

Okay, Readers, chime in! Are you a bedmaker or no?

"See? That's Not So Bad!"

 

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING:  I’ve been deliberately turning away from the firehose of news gushing from my radio, computer and phone these days.

 

 

Instead, I’ve been practicing mindfulness, gratitude, and just trying to open my eyes and actually notice the world around me, instead of obsessively doom-scrolling to see the next unbelievable twist the writers have for 2020: The Series.

Anyhow, it’s been easier because recently, I’ve started walking the Maine Millennial’s dog. If you follow her online or read her column, you’ll know the poor thing was struck down with shingles, roughly four decades before most unvaccinated people get it. (Another recent victim; our own Jenn, who fought off a bout last year.) Shingles, which is a reactivation of the chicken pox virus, can be brought on by stress. Stress? Who could possibly be stressed these days? 

Shingles hurts a lot, and since I couldn’t do the first thing I wanted to help, which was to be like the Empath in that Star Trek episode and take her pain into my own body, I’ve been helping out by walking the  

dog. Janey is four years old and full of energy, and she tends to have a startling amount of pull when she lunges after a squirrel, so her two long walks, morning and evening, require a certain level of exertion The Maine Millennial just isn’t up for right now.

Here’s the thing: I started doing it because I had to if I wanted to help my daughter. I have not been yearning for a dog of my own to walk. My last pup, Louie the semi-toothless Shih Tzu, passed away over two years ago, and despite the fact I’m a pretty passionate dog lover, I’ve  

been reveling in the freedom to say yes to spontaneous invitations without worrying who would let the dog out (in the Before Times, of course) and in the joy of snuggling into my pillow for an extra half hour of sleep instead of having to get up and out because some species never learned to use a toilet. (I think it may have something to do with not having opposable thumbs.)

 

But I’m finding I actually enjoy the task I backed into. I like the fact I’m getting a brisk walk a couple times a day - something I kept saying I was going to do for myself, but never did. I like getting to see the beautiful sights in my neighborhood - the Saco River, graceful old houses decorated for fall, the fruits and flowers of autumn. I like hiking on the trails through our local park, immersed in nature (and it’s exactly the sort of thing that’s great for my Achilles tendinitis.) 

Reds: Have you ever had a job or a task you dreaded, only to unexpectedly enjoy?

LUCY BURDETTE: I’m having a hard time coming up with tasks I dread, except for scooping the kitty litter. It would be a stretch to say that it can become a zen task to get every granule clean:). So I won’t.

However we are on the same path with doggie responsibilities, except mine is a puppy and I asked for it! It was good not to have to worry about taking an animal out early and late and many times in between, but actually both times of day are gorgeous (if it’s not raining.) The moon has been beautiful and the sky clear and many planets in plain view. And although puppy training is HARD, it’s also very gratifying. And she’s such fun to watch!

RHYS BOWEN:  Julia, I can tell you tasks that I didn’t want to do and still don’t enjoy. One is house cleaning, since I can’t invite my cleaning lady back at this moment. Another is cooking. I’m so bored with my own food and never eating out. We’ve done take out but it loses appeal if it’s half cold by the time we get it home.

 

One task I did enjoy: son and daughter were coming for socially distanced outdoor dinner. I dug out an old table and chairs— probably from the 1980s and had to scrub off years of grime. I was sweating and panting by the end but it was surprisingly satisfying.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: I cleaned out my top two dresser drawers. Mainly because I realized  I had no idea what was in them, and even though daunting, it was easier than writing. It was amazing. I tossed a billion little scraps or notes and receipts and things I don’t know what were or couldn’t even read. I found a disposable camera full of undeveloped photos, which, I figure, is a terrific clue for a mystery, right?  I found a wonderful note from my Mom (note circa 1999), five or six unexpired Barnes & Noble gift cards, a bracelet I thought was long gone, about 7 charging cords (to what, I have no idea), two nice camisole tops still in their plastic wrappers, PEZ in a MIcky Mouse dispenser, and a 100 dollar bill. Pretty nice!    

HALLIE EPHRON: Drawer straightening is surprisingly pleasant for me, too, though I’ve never found anything particularly valuable among my underpants. But there’s something so satisfying, going from disorder to order and ending up with a pile of stuff whose use-by date as expired or that you really don’t need any longer. Straightening my office is like that, too. And washing curtains -- the satisfying part is hanging them back up and standing back and admiring how fresh they look. I’ve been surprised by how little I miss eating out. 

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Well, I won't say I've ever dreaded walking the dogs. But, there are days when I'd rather not, especially in the height of summer. Now, however, our older dog has developed severe arthritis, so I have to walk them every day, and I am always glad when I do.

And, like Rhys, we are doing without our housekeeper for the duration, and as much as I dread those things like scrubbing the tub and mopping the floors, I always feel very satisfied with myself once those tasks are done.

 

JULIA: There you have it. Proof that my mother was right when she told me to do the hardest thing first. How about you, dear readers? Do you have a task, chore or endeavor that turned out to be much better than anticipated?