Some days, I feel like I’m a competent parent and a decent human being. Other days, I question how I managed to leave the hospital with a newborn… four times. Today fell into the latter category.
It had been ages since I cleaned the sheets and made the beds. Possibly since the last ice age. With a queen-sized bed, two sets of bunk beds, and a crib, that’s a total of 2 + 4, plus, let’s say, 500 stuffed animals and 15 mismatched socks hiding beneath the sheets—that’s a lot of bedding!
I tend to avoid this chore like I do exercise and community service. I was just adding the final touches to my 3-year-old’s bottom bunk when my 8-year-old piped up, “Mommy, can you make my bed too?”
“Of course, sweetie! Yours is next!” I beamed with parental pride for a whole three minutes until I attempted the climb to the top bunk—my own personal Mount Everest. The ladder seemed to mock me, whispering, “Look at the big one struggling to climb us. She can’t even manage it.” When I finally reached the top, I was shocked to find a scene that resembled a prison cell.
No sheet, just 15 books crammed under her pillow. No fitted sheet, no sheet of any kind. Did you catch that? NO SHEETS. And let’s not even discuss the mattress, which turned out to be a toddler bed pad split into three flimsy sections. I felt like the worst parent ever.
“Ummm, you don’t have any sheets. How long has it been like this?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. A while, I think,” she replied nonchalantly.
“Why are you sleeping on these thin pads? What happened?” I pressed.
“I think something went wrong when you were fixing the beds last time. Maybe you couldn’t finish? I don’t remember. It was a while ago.”
Her memoir, “I Don’t Remember. It Was A While Ago,” is destined to be a parenting classic. NO MORE SHEETS, EVER!
The only thing missing was a tin cup for her to rattle against the bed guard. Meanwhile, the unused top bunk of my son’s bed was lavishly decorated with a double mattress, an eggshell topper, sheets, two pillows, and several blankets, all set for the imaginary guest who must be enjoying a five-star experience.
I spent the next couple of hours hauling mattresses, fluffing pillows, and rearranging bedding. I tucked the corners and put the softest sheets I could find on my daughter’s sad little bed. How had I let this happen? For weeks, no, months! Ah yes, the ladder was to blame.
I gave kisses at the bottom of the bed; nobody puts baby in a corner—unless it’s the corner of a neglected bunk bed.
On the upside, I walked away with newfound admiration for my daughter. She is the antithesis of a diva. Not once did she complain. Not once did she ask for sheets or mention her mattress pads drifting apart every night. She simply kissed us goodnight and climbed up to her barren, desolate bed.
The old fable says a princess could feel a pea beneath a stack of mattresses, but I’m convinced a real princess would do what my daughter did—kiss her family goodnight and make the best of her situation.
In the end, despite my shortcomings, we’ve got ourselves a genuine princess. I hope she marries into royalty; we could all use some Egyptian cotton around here.
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Summary: Parenting can be a rollercoaster of emotions, and sometimes we overlook the little things—like making beds. In a humorous reflection, a mother discovers her daughter’s top bunk has been neglected for far too long, yet her daughter manages to make the best of it without complaint. This story reminds us of the resilience of children and our responsibilities as parents.