As I was making my bed this morning, queen size, I couldn’t help but think to myself this bed seems to get bigger every time I make it.
Of course this is not true it just seems that way, because I am a compulsive, over achiever and that bed has to be perfect!
The sheets tucked with hospital corners, before the bedspread and finally the pillows.
Crisp, clean, precise.
There is a tiny part of me that hates that bed.
My daughter and I were talking the other morning and I mentioned the bed ordeal and she said mom can’t you just pull the sheets up neat, and throw on the bedspread, because you can’t see the sheets anyway once you put the spread on.
My answer was, “Oh no! I would think about those sheets all day not being tucked in!” and of course she thought that was hysterical.
She said I had OCD, obsessive compulsive disorder.
To be honest some days I would love not to be so concerned about every thing being just right.
The one thing I have noticed, when ever I have been to the cemetery, I have never seen any head stones that say “Good housekeeper” or “She was so Neat”.
It’s a lovely thought to tame the tuck, but I am probably not going to change at this point in my life.
The answer is to tuck.