We All Have Our Thing

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That daughter of mine…

Was in a play…a junior high play…a musical, in fact, about the princess and the pea…

Often think of this in the morning…during bed making time…always felt accomplished as a bed maker…skilled even…been making beds since the age of ten…

But during these years of marriage, have learned to defer to the man of the house, because one of us, apparently, fails to follow bed making rules…

Didn’t know there WERE bed making rules…was baffled, to be honest…the top sheet smooth…the blanket aligned…the bedspread and pillows neat and tidy…but still, things didn’t seem to measure up…

And then, one day, making the bed as a team—he on one side, she on the other—the lightening bolt struck, and it was suddenly clear to slow-to-catch-on-me…

It’s not about the top covers at all…it’s about the bottom…the mattress pad…the fitted sheet…because one of us…and he shall remain nameless…is a princess…or like a princess…or like THE princess in that tale of the Princess and the Pea…

Feels every bump and bulge and crumb lying beneath him…and, sometimes, it keeps everyone awake…

And so it is…in life…we all have our thing…one of us can’t stand the heat, the other can’t stand the lumps…and it just goes to show…
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You don’t need a stage…to have a little drama…

And that husband of mine...agrees...