Light Notes

Another reason to make your bed

There are certain warnings mothers pass from one generation to another.

It’s an effort to save their offspring from embarrassment.

For instance, I was told to always wear nice underwear; something to do with the possibility of being in a car accident and suffering humiliation.

To this day I’ve tossed my tattered lingerie, and as a result have avoided any car crashes.

Since I have two daughters, I have passed this same advice along to them. So far, so good.

But there were more words of warning that I added to their list: Don’t leave the house without making your bed, doing the dishes and picking up clutter.

I gave this advice because I am well-acquainted with Murphy of Murphy’s law.

Those of you who have read my experience about departing home without my makeup are aware of what I speak.

So, when one of my grown daughters called yesterday with her humiliating news, I could totally relate.

“Mom, I just got home from grocery shopping a few minutes ago and when I drove up with the kids, the police were in the backyard,” Tiffany practically shouted into the phone. “Our security alarm went off because the door was ajar.”

“Wow! Now you know the system really works!” I replied, imagining how secure she must be feeling.

“No! That’s not the point,” she wailed. “I just realized they had to inspect the entire inside of the house!”

What could be so bad about that, I wondered.

Then the mortifying confession poured forth. She had been in a rush to leave that morning and — you guessed it — the house looked . . . well, as if a burglar had ransacked it.

“I’m sure they even looked inside the closets!” my distraught daughter exclaimed. “They probably thought the person who created this mess must be hiding somewhere!”

I felt her pain. She’d just met Murphy.

“You didn’t happen to wreck the car, too?” I asked.

“Of course not! Why would you ask that?” she said with a self-conscious tone.

I had my reasons.

Thankfully, before she left home she had heeded at least one of her mother’s warnings.