The story of my unrest: unmade beds, being luststruck and taco meat

Despite how much my dear husband drives me nuts because of our intrinsic, biological differences, I adore the man. I couldn't see myself waking up beside anyone else.

Wait. Will Smith. Vin Diesel. And Brad.

No, seriously, though. There are just those mundane things that come up in everyday life that I just have to learn to deal with. One of those things is the unmade bed.

I have to make it. Like everyday. Or else I feel....unclean.

Cuz to me, there is nothing more delicious than opening up your neat and tidy bed and sliding into some soft, cool, crisp sheets. And the only way you are going to achieve that is making your bed first thing in the morning.

This is something my mama always taught me. Good, clean sheets (both fitted and flat unless you are a heathen). Your big, soft blanket with a tiger on it that you bought in Ensenada. Your quilt and/or duvet...shams...bed skirts....the assortment of pillows. It's all good. A lady always has a nice, clean bed with proper linens.

So I have tried to adhere to her rule for as long as I can remember.

But my dear one. Oh, my dear one. When we first started dating, his bed consisted of the mattress and all of his clean laundry piled on top of it. I don't know if he had pillows or sheets because of that mountainous laundry pile. But at the time I was lovestruck...luststruck. And I clearly remember thinking, at least it's clean.

So to him, it doesn't really matter if the bed is made or not. It's not a priority. He will make it to humor me but not because he feels it should be made, for sanitary purposes.

"Ooooh, the bed looks so good right now!" He will say on Sundays, usually the only day the bed doesn't get made.

And then I will wrinkle up my nose in response, thinking about the leftover eye mocos, feet crust, dust mites, food crumbs, my long hair which I seem to lose at an alarming rate and Michael's taco meat which looks suspiciously like pubes.

Ahhhhh, no. It sooo doesn't good right now.

My bed-making dictatorship stands for the entire household of six beds. The chil'rens are funky enough as it is, and so are their rooms. String cheese wrappers under the bed and dried boogers on the wall, much to my horror. The only three occasions when I relax my stance: illness, Sunday mornings (because I am fighting for dear life to get out the door to go to church before the chil'rens unravel themselves), and childbirth/recovery. And that last one ain't happenin' anytime soon so there are no excuses, really.

So I've just resigned myself and added this onto the list of things that shall forever make my dear one an enigma to me.

1.) He likes Top Ramen.
2.) The fact that he can't remember the gas tank is on E in the middle of the 91 freeway but he knows where the reciept is for the time he bought his first child some diapers at Rite Aid in 1995.
3.) You risk decapitatation if you ask him any questions while he is installing a curtain rod and/or working on the car.
4.) He can fall asleep anywhere, anytime.
5.) Despite my best efforts...loves an unmade bed.

I still love you, dear.


  1. You are so right. My mexican momma instilled in us boys, to keep a clean room, learn to cook for ourselves, wash and iron too.
    To this day, I hate an unmade bed, even when im traveling in a hotel I will pick up after myself, so the maid-housekeeping won't think im a slob.
    And its like Oprah has said in the past. The state and condition of your living quarters, home,apt or room is, it directly reflects how your life is. If you are messy, you got a messy life. If you got an organized place you got an organized life.
    I am a neat freak for sure.
    But like AA says, change that which you can change and accept what you cannot change, or something like that lol.

  2. "anytime soon"??? haha

  3. Ok Fo, it ain't happenin' EVAR

  4. I agree - it's those Mexican moms who drill this into our heads. Me and my sisters would be in BIG trouble if our beds weren't made. I am definitely a strictler for a made bed. On those rare occasions where it didn't get made I have to make it first before getting into it.

  5. I thought it was the army that made my husband make his bed every day. Turns out it was his Dad. I asked him why he had to make it if we were just going to mess it up again. He said" I'll tell you what my Dad told me. You wipe your ass evry time you take a dump, don't you?"
    I still don't make the bed.

  6. love & hate--HA! A hotel room is the one place where I don't care if I make the bed. Guess cuz I know someone is gonna do it for me. But I will, however, put my chonies away so I won't get caught slippin'.

    BB--MUST be those mexican mama's! And I always remake the bed..fluff out the sheets, fix the pillows, etc. I guess it's a mental thing.

    Lisa--My dad says the SAME THING. That is the best saying EVER.

  7. I used to make my bed to be as tight as my ass cheek (So you can bounce a quarter off of it).


Break me off something.

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