Sunday, August 18, 2013

A Memory Snippet

My computer monitor is on the fritz, so I'm bringing you this post courtesy of my Ipad. So please excuse any changes in style for this post.  The writing, however, will remain true to the mediocre quality to which you've become accustomed.

I got a new set of sheets this week.  Pinky put them on the bed Thursday night, and the when I got into them that night, I had a flashback to the days (or more specifically, nights) of my youth.  

I used to absolutely love the day when my mom would change the sheets on my bed.  I'd come home from school and she'd say, "Fresh bed tonight!"

"Fresh bed."  That's exactly what it was, too.  Mom could make a bed more tightly than anyone I ever knew.  Sure, I'd have to make my bed every morning, but I couldn't do it well at all.  So when Mom made the Fresh Bed, I'd take great pains to keep it intact for as long as I could.  

First of all, I'd never turn the covers down.  I'd sit way up on my pillow, slip my toes under the covers, and then wiggle myself down into bed, so I'd be wrapped up tight, like a 6-foot burrito.  (And you should have seen the gymnastics involved in jamming all of ME into a place the width of a pillow.)

Secondly, I'm not a real "active" sleeper; I rarely thrash about and mess up the covers.  I usually just "revolve," turning from back, to side, to stomach, to other side, and so on throughout the night.  In the morning, I'd wiggle back up out from under the covers, the same way I'd gone in.  That way, not only did the bed remain all tight and cozy, I didn't have to make the bed in the morning.

If I was careful, I could keep the bed tight for about a week.

I know you can get maids to come in and clean for you... I wonder if there's a service that will come in and make your bed every day...

I'm pretty sure Mom is unavailable these days...

7 comments:

  1. One of life's little unsung pleasures. Thanks for remembering and appreciating. Aunt JoAnn taught me her nurse's bed making technique but I learned the secret in the Army. How to accommodate a "six foot burrito".

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  2. The Ex showed me how to do "hospital corners" too, but they still didn't compare to The Master.

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  3. It's all in the tugg'in.

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  4. A revolver. Huh. Never heard it referred to that way. I would have thought rotator. Or rotisserie?

    Yeah, whatever it is. I'm one of those as well.

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    1. It’s really a subliminal way of saying I’m a pistol in bed. “Rotator” sounds like people are taking turns in there with me.

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  5. Ugh, yes, no matter how well I make my bed, it doesn't compare to having someone do it for me. I still get a thrill out of fresh hotel beds to this day. In my adulthood, I've gotten pretty awesome at not thrashing around in bed, partly because I've usually been with someone (tramp), and partly because when I'm not with someone, I like to throw a bunch of clothes on my bed at the end of the day and then try not to kick them off at night.

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    1. I still get a thrill out of staying at a hotel, just because it seems like such a “grownup” thing to do. God, when I was in my early 20s, I half expected them to chase me away when I went to check in, because I was just a kid and probably up to no good. I guess I’ve never gotten past that feeling that staying in a hotel is the coolest thing ever.

      Not having to make the bed is just a bonus.

      Oh, and I can’t sleep with clothes on the bed. They ruin the sanctity of the covers.

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