Emily Idzior: Making the Bed

Everyone, you think, has trouble making the bed. It’s a dance that the actresses on TV commercials make look smooth and easy but it’s a fight. It’s Monday and in one corner is you, five foot tall, in the other corner is the mattress, so large and so tall. It’s almost comedic--like a skit on TV about over-sized chairs and toys with a normal sized person sitting among the giant things to look like a child. You’re the size of some children, except with hips and a fully developed love of naps. You will win this fight but you will walk away with sore arms, out of breath, in need of a glass of cold water. The cat makes it fun, she runs under the sheets and is cute, you think that will make it fun every time. Today, though, the cat is off watching the leaves fall of the trees and is more interested in a cat-bath than the human chore of making the bed. At moments you pretend you have it easy, some people do this for a living. And then the fitted sheet isn’t fitting anything today. So you’ll pull and pull and then gather and walk over to another corner and pull and tuck. Soon it will be done, one corner will be sticking up and the others will look taut and perfect like they should. One side will have less sheet than the other side but it’s done. And then the next sheet, which is admittedly easier but still a problem. The cat decides to come in and wants to sabotage your hard work. So you’ll play with the cat to humor her, let her run and jump and get cat hair all over even though you’re only slightly allergic. And then it’s time to finish the work. Smooth the sheet out, shoo the cat out. Maybe today you’ll do things differently and fold the top of the quilt over to make a cute “hotel” quality bed. Except not “hotel quality” because you’ll be able to move freely without fighting to undo the bed. So it’s done. The pillows are placed where they belong and the bed is made. Tonight it will become unmade. And next week the laundry will need to be done. But right now, in this moment: perfection. You own this moment. You deserve something. Go eat a slice of pie. Drink a hot cup of coffee with a lot of cream and sugar in it. Delight in the fact that it’s over and you don’t technically even have to do it next week if you don’t want to. But you will. The cat’s just too cute.