Amongst all the other things I can't do I have added one: making beds.
Tonight I was asked to help make the bed. I managed to keep it to myself that making the bed a half-hour before GOING to bed didn't make any sense. Or maybe I didn't manage.
After being given the assignment of top right and bottom right corner, I quickly found that I hadn't pulled the corner of the fitted sheet far enough...evidenced by the sag in the corners and the sigh Holli gave as she came to my side of the bed and pulled them tight.
As a child, I was charged with making my bed every morning. I hated this chore so much I began sleeping on the floor (or on top of the bed) to perhaps save time, or perhaps to get out of doing it on a daily basis. I still would rather sleep on top of the bed, which would be fine except that I'm married.
