Bedtime Story …

images-1When I was a small lad, I had to make my bed every morning, this was considered one of my chores as Dad used to call them.  I could not go play baseball at the park, rob a beer truck making deliveries at the liquor store, skateboard with my buddies until that bed was made.

It often put a serious crimp in my active social life.  In those years, what I call my “formidable years” it was necessary to meet others, greet them, chose sides, and intermingle and socialize.  Kind of like FaceBook in reverse.

Years later, I went in the service, things drastically changed for me.  But one aspect of life, stayed the same.  Each day I had to make my bed, which was now called a rack.  This had to be done before loading weapons onto jet aircraft that were destined to fly off the flight deck of my Super Carrier and kill people in strange exotic lands that Congress dispatched me to on my Senior Trip fresh outta highschool.

Came home … first thing you know … I got married (It’s lonely in the service even with don’t ask — don’t tell).  Well smack my butt and call me Judy!  Very first day of the Honeymoon SHE made me make my bed too.  Have to be honest with you, I just don’t get it.  Why do you have to make something that you are just going to lie down in at the end of the day?

Here’s another one “Make sure you have on clean under-wear.” 

Read that again if you must.  I have to be totally candid about this, I never understood that one at all, it just defied logic.  Then one day in 1991 I was in a fatal truck/train collision and … well, let’s just say, it gave a totally new meaning to the expression!  (And it didn’t make me a whole lotta new friends in the ER either)

Stop by tomorrow and we will discuss why it is that my bride hides my liquor bottles when the Grandkids show up.  It is not like I have a serious drinking problem or something like that, ‘cause I don’t. 

Why I feel the urge to discuss this is beyond me.  Might be it is for some strange reason this morning, that I feel a deep-seated urge to discuss this aspect of my marriage.

What the hell?  It aint Valentines’ Day yet.

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6 thoughts on “Bedtime Story …

  1. I’m not one to make a bed since leaving the service. Seems a waste of time to me.

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    • Yes, that is my way of thinking on it. Why make it, some unwritten rule of life that we were not genetically programmed with at birth?

      Thanks for your comment James.

      DS

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  2. Was that the ice truck in fog accident Don?

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    • “Then one day in 1991 I was in a fatal truck/train collision and … well, let’s just say, it gave a totally new meaning to the expression! (And it didn’t make me a whole lotta new friends in the ER either)”

      Yup, shore was, Enid Oklahoma on the branch.

      DS

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  3. I can remember while in “boot camp” in San Antonio, TX USAF Lackland AFB being taught how to “make your bed” with those famous “hospital corners AIRMAN !!! Our T.I. (in the USAF they were T.I.’s not D.I.’s like the rest of the military) was a mean-spirited, banty rooster type of a S.O.B. from someplace in Florida. Used to go around and rip the bed clothing off most of our beds ’cause he said if it was done right; YOU COULD BOUNCE A QUARTER off it !!!
    Sadly, like James has stated above, only time I DON’T make the bed is when my bride of 49 years (this January 29th) goes out of town with some of her gal friends. I don’t see the need either.

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    • Boy do I remember Boot Camp, used to sit on the floor (couldn’t sit on the rack, that would put wrinkles in it) and think to myself ….. “Who in the hell raised these people?” 13 weeks 6 days in Great Lakes Ill.

      I shudder just thinking about it even now.

      Thank you for your well written comments.

      DS

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