tuesday's true confession: six-year-old sheet logic

Time for Tuesday's True Confession, and I'm having trouble choosing what to confess. 

I could confess that this beautiful baby

is starting kindergarten in two days, and I am feeling a bit achy inside.

I could confess that I'm having serious hair issues that make me feel ugly.

I could confess someone - a person that I don't even know - did something that made me doubt myself today and that made me angry.

But instead of all that serious baggage, I'm going to confess this:

I don't make my bed . . . AND . . . I don't make my five year old make her bed either.  I know . . . shocking, isn't it?  I just tucked her into bed for the night.  The covers were all bunched up at the bottom of the bed, and it didn't bother me one bit! 

When I was growing up, my mom used to force me to make my bed every morning.  This chore totally confused me, and I had very logical little-kid reasons for why it was silly to make my bed:

1)  I'm just going to get back in it when it was time for bed again.
2)  Making a bed wasted valuable time I could have used for a variety of other things.
3)  . . .

Okay, I only had two reasons, but I was six so give me a break.

I also said things like, "I will never force my kids to make their beds." 

There's something you should know about me . . . when I say I am or I am not going to do something, I pretty much stick to that just to prove a point.  I'm stubborn . . . but that's for a different confession. 

I'm now thirty-three, and I feel the exact same way about making beds as I did when I was six.  I don't do it, and I don't make my kids do it.  And I probably never will.  There I said it!

What about you?  Are you a bed-maker or a bed-leaver?

Confess on!