Quoted from Erma Bombeck, one of my all-time favorite authors:
No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.
Judge me if you must, but Erma and I are on the same page.
As a child, my mother forced me to make my bed every morning. I never saw the point, unless the covers were so out of order that you couldn’t pull them over yourself completely. Then, I certainly saw the wisdom of straightening them out.
I confess to not being a stickler about the Munchkin making his own bed. In fact, I don’t really remember the last time he did it.
It doesn’t help that he has an all-in-one bed, the kind with the mattress on top like a bunkbed, and drawers and a desk underneath. I certainly can’t make it up the ladder to inspect it, or let’s just say I don’t want to make it up the ladder to inspect it, shall we. It’s difficult to make a bed that you must sit on in order to fix the blankets, so I give him a pass.
But to be honest, even if he didn’t have a bed like that, I probably wouldn’t force him to do it all the time, only when I was feeling the need to be anal about something fairly innocuous.
Which happens more often than you would think, but still not a priority.
My track record with my own bed is pretty poor, especially since our daughter is sleeping in it as well. Since she also naps there, it means I would have to make it twice a day and mama just does not have the time for that.
But parenting is all about picking your battles, and I’d rather save mine for the thousands of Legos on the floor.