After twelve years of cohabitation, I finally stopped hoping for a miracle. I "politely" asked my husband to please start making the bed on a regular basis. I cited the oft used “last one out” rule, as he is most often the last one out. I explained that despite his excellence in earning, fathering and husbandry he does little else domestically-no laundry, dishes, taking out trash, cleaning or organizing of any kind unless he is personally and politely asked to do something specific.
I thought that our bed-his place of refuge, pleasure, relaxation, dreams-could be his one Singular Task.
No mention was made of hospital corners, or bouncing quarters off taught bedsheets- the only words used were flat and straight. I even got a comforter with lines so it would be extra easy.
What followed can only be described as poetry...these are actual photos. No staging was required.
