The Tale of the Made Bed

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The other day my 4-year-old wandered into my room, and upon seeing my made bed, widened her eyes in surprise and said, “Whoa, Mommy”. She then asked if she and her little sister could “try out” my bed. She climbed up, laid against the pillows and asked, “Where is your blanket?” Thinking she was referring to a specific favourite blanket of mine, I told her it was in the laundry. She said, “No, what do you sleep under on this bed?”.

Not only did my made bed come as a surprise to her, but she was wholly unfamiliar with the concept of her parents made bed. I KNOW (in all-caps, bolded and underlined for extra emphasis) that I have made my bed periodically over the last 4 years of her life. It is not a sight unseen for her. But I shudder to think that it was long enough ago that she had no recollection of that bed being made. In my defence (if such lapses in housekeeping and parenting are defendable – and the iron-clad bastions of modern day social mores, women’s/parenting magazines and the internet, would indicate they aren’t), we have recently purchased a new duvet cover and it may just be that she’d never seen the bed made with that particular configuration.  I am going to go with that explanation, if only so I can sleep tonight (in my currently unmade bed. Sigh).

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