Sunday, January 23, 2005

Humans are Silly Monkeys

I have not made the bed the whole time Cindy has been away - that is, since Thursday. Now, nominally I'm a big bed-making freak. Brother, that bed better be made or my life is just askew.

Sad, I know.

So yeah, I haven't made the bed. Except last night, when I put the new sheets and pillowcases on it. But that doesn't count. I think back over all the bedmaking I've done in my life, sometimes more than once a day. Cause we like to wrestle and play pretty often, and I like to sleep in a bed when the sheet isn't wadded into a twisted ball.

I've made hundreds of beds in my time -

(I was even, briefly, a professional bed-maker. But forget about that)

- and I sometimes wonder what the use is. In a hundred years, when I am dead, no one will care. It won't (i hope) be on my tombstone:

Here lies Mike. He sure liked making beds. May he Rest in Peace.

It's just not an attribute one aspires to. I could be doing something more productive, more fun, more interesting, or simply less involved with linens...

"That Mike, he spent a lot of time with linen. Musta been a mummy wrapper in a past life. Ha Ha! But seriously, Mike is the guy you want to talk to when it comes to the Linen Lobby. They run this here town. "

To be sure, cleaning is important. Hygiene and all. Cleaning the kitchen and bathroom, hey - important way to spend time.

Straightening, well that has less to do with killing germs. You might be less likely to trip and break a bone or a valuable electronic artifact, or less likely to get tangled and smother yourself, but still.

Straightening seems like a waste of time.
And yet I do it.
Habit?
Maybe.

1 comment:

  1. I care. I do care. I care deeply.
    Bed making is an art form.
    At last, it is a temperal art form--here today, gone tomorrow.

    True, I can collaps on a wad of blankets and let my partner come in and untangle me in my sleep--

    But there still has to be those who make beds in the world today, or the elections might not take place in Iraq on Sunday . . .

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