The Right Path

The Right Path

How do you know you’re on the right path? You don’t until something happens.

I was making my bed. It was a habit. I’d grown up in a house where if you didn’t make your bed it became the topic of conversation at dinner. “So Sandy, what was so important this morning that you couldn’t even make your bed? Did you forget your alarm clock? Not finish your homework?” It was easier to make it, than to listen to it.

I stopped. ‘I’m a grown up!’ I thought. ‘This is my apartment. I never have to make my bed again!’ I felt wicked! Free! Immediately pulling the blanket right off, giddy with power, I grabbed the pillow, flinging it in the air.

The ceiling fan was on, not turning fast, but it caught part of the pillow case on something between the fan and the ceiling so the pillow was hanging out swirling around and must have had a little hole because feathers started floating down like snowflakes. I quickly turned the fan off, it was actually funny. My blanket on the floor, the pillow hanging down from the fan, feathers everywhere. The doorbell rang. Mother! Picking me up for yard sales!

I flew out of the room, thankfully already dressed, shutting the door behind me. She would never know! But as she walked in, she pulled a feather from my hair.

“Your pillow must have a rip Honey, I can fix it …” and she pulled out her travel sewing kit, marched into the bedroom of her single daughter, looked at the mess… and fainted.

I can’t decide now if she will be more upset if I lie and tell her I had a hot date last night, or the truth, that I’ve decided not to make my bed anymore…