On Saturdays we clean the house and do laundry, which means I have to strip and remake my bed. I always leave the remaking until later. Later is always right when I am going to go crawl in bed, then I am sad because I forgot and now I have to make up my bed, which is the worst five minutes of my week. I don't know why making a bed is so horrid, but it just is. Maybe it is because you have to walk around the bed, seemingly a million times, pulling and tucking covers.
Maybe you will understand my pain when I tell you that a few weeks ago at work, I stripped the five beds and washed the sheets in preparation of the cleaners, but they called and said the wife had a headache so they wouldn't be coming. That meant I had to remake all five of the beds. Not fun. But I survived.
And maybe you will understand my joy when I tell you that on a couple of Saturdays ago, I came home late that night, to find my bed already made. Justine had done it before we left. It was wonderful.
If you want to win my heart, remake my bed.