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Making the Bed

I know I usually write stories on Sunday. When Girl Twin and her friends encountered the snake this past week, I became so excited to tell the story I couldn’t wait until Sunday. I wrote the story days ago; I just cracked yesterday. I had to push the “publish” button.

I’ve wanted to address a post I saw on Spacebook a few weeks ago. No guys, I’m not going there. Monner can’t discuss Presidents, riots, masks, statues, tax cuts, walls, tariffs and First Lady’s dresses. Did I miss anything?

A friend of mine asked the question in a post, “Do you make the bed every morning?” That simple question started a conversation with Elaine and me.

I’ve never made a bed. Oh, I’ve helped Elaine put clean sheets on the bed a couple times, in the last forty (+) years. As a kid growing up, my mother made my bed. I know, some of you are thinking Mom spoiled me. Mom knew what she was doing. By making my bed, Mom had a reason to walk into my room to look into dresser and closet. I don’t know what she was looking for, I was near to perfect back then. Did I mention she peeled an orange every day for me? God, I loved that woman. Elaine won’t even hand me an orange. It is some kind of feminist thing. (Elaine, says she will hand me an orange. I'll let you know.)

If I was to make the bed, Elaine wouldn’t like it. She doesn’t get up as early as I do. No one wants to be stuck in a made bed.

Well, the story doesn’t stop there. I’ve spent quite a bit of time traveling for work, living alone in motels, hotels, apartments and extended stay facilities. I didn’t make the bed any time; in any of those places, either.

Obviously, in the motel and hotels the maids made the beds. It was a little different in the apartments and extended stays.

The companies I worked for would either pay your motel bill, apartment rental fees, or give me an allowance to cover housing costs.

The first traveling job I took, Elaine went with me. I was working for a company headquartered in Colorado, building fast food restaurants in Louisiana; Denham Springs, Louisiana. This construction company had arranged for us to live in the only motel in Denham Springs. (As I understand it, Denham Springs has grown and now has several motels and fast food restaurants.)

Elaine and I checked into the motel and went to the room. We turned on the light only to find a bed, a nightstand, and a wire hanging from the ceiling with a light bulb on the end. Elaine burst into tears, so I didn’t need to. We exchanged (construction language) relating to not staying there. I called my boss back in Colorado and told him, “No, not only no, (construction language) no!” My boss gave me an allowance and we found a place to stay in Baton Rouge. None of this has anything to do with making beds, and I don’t know why it is in this story. But, Elaine went home after three weeks, and I did not make the bed. The maids did. (Hey, I just noticed my grammar program wants me to change maids to house cleaners. Next time.)

Back to making beds. Fast forward a few years, about twenty. I was working for a company far from my home. This company gave me a monthly allowance to find an apartment. The allowance would easily allow me to rent a nice furnished one-bedroom apartment. Sadly, my mind doesn’t work that way. If I got an unfinished apartment, I might save and keep some of my allowance.

I rented an unfinished apartment, went to WallyWorld and bought two blankets, a folding patio recliner and a television. I placed one blanket on the floor for my mattress. The other blanket was to cover myself if the room was too cold. I watched television (and sometimes slept) in the reclining chair. The television sat on the dining table, which was the box the television came in. You don’t make the bed in those conditions. I saved and pocketed about $70.00 a month.

Recently, I was working in Colorado, but too far to drive home every night. I found an extended stay motel that was in the company’s budget. This baby was nice. Health club, microwave, stove, closets, a large flat screen television not on a box. Most of all, maid service. The bed was made every day. Not by me.

Elaine spent weekends with me. She wasn’t amused. I didn’t use the closet. My socks were on the floor in the corner, Shirts; I picked another corner. Pants/shorts; on the ottoman. Elaine didn’t cry, she just started putting my stuff where I didn’t want it, not realizing a man's motel room is his castle..

Barb, I don’t make the bed. (Elaine, however, does and makes me use drawers.)

If you haven’t read yesterday’s story, please do, Girl Twin thinks it a good one.

Our crazy lives!


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