The Logic Behind Eating Dirt, Hanging Up Your Wet Towel, and Not Making Your Bed

True story: When Paddy O'Wife was still a wee Paddy O'Little Girl, her older brother tricked her into eating dirt by telling her that "God made dirt, so dirt can't hurt." Her present-day (i.e., last Saturday) defense for that is "How can you argue with that logic?" Well, God made Alaskan kodiak bears, but apparently their reputation for tearing human limbs off is an old wives' tale. Or rather, an old widows' tale since any husband running into God's razor-clawed teddy bear never made it home in one piece.

"God made dirt, so dirt can't hurt."

That little phrase contains quite a bit of wisdom. First, it explains how I was able to pull the wool over PO'W's eyes long enough for her to marry me -- I ended up winning on that deal. Second, it brings PO'W's total faults to two, and she can't help that whole "part German" thing (though I still hold it against her). Third, it got me thinking about why people do or don't do certain things. Say what you will about eating dirt, at least PO'W was given a reason.

When I was a pequeño OZ de Niño, I would never draw the shower curtain open after taking a shower, nor would I put the towel on a towel rack or the shower curtain rod. My mother repeatedly asked me to, but I still didn't because I didn't see the point and because I was lazy -- the latter more than the former. That pattern persisted until a few months after I moved into my own apartment and I came home to an acrid smell eminating from my shower curtain which looked like a map of an alien world were continental land masses were represented by massive mildew blotches. "Ah, so that's why shower curtains should be opened after a shower," I thought. I'm sure my mother explained this to me growing up, but I forgot to add "bull-headed" after "lazy" above and I'm too lazy to go back and add it in.

So now I avoid making new mildew maps, but the one thing I still can't get a grip on is making the bed. What is the point of that? The best I can figure, there are a few reasons to make your bed, but none of them make any sense.

The most commonly-touted reason is, "because it looks nice." This one goes right out the window because the only person who sees your bed before you go back to sleep on it is you. Are you afraid that you're going to think bad of yourself and gossip to all your friends about what a slob you are? If so, see a shrink.

Hmm... okay, reel that reason back in the window. It holds water if you're planning on bringing someone home that evening for some not-quite-sleeping. Under those circumstances, it makes sense that everything should look as nice as possible so your classy, Miller Lite-swigging date can be impressed. But I'm married and I was a computer science major at a nerd school, so needless to say I have never had to make my bed. Besides, I don't think making my bed would have helped given my many Lord of the Rings and "Matrix" posters. But I digress.com.

Another supposed reason is that it's important for the bed to be in order in case company comes over and needs to spend the night for actual sleeping. ... Let me clear something up: if I'm giving up my bed in my house and spending the night on the couch, I'm done making special concessions. I'm either going to spend energy making the bed (and then sleeping on it) or walking to the couch (and then sleeping on it). You can't have both unless you're paying a nightly rate. Check out is at 11:00am. Enjoy your stay.

In fact, I've found that I have a valid reason for not making my bed: my cat likes to sleep on various textures and levels of fluff, so a messed up bed gives him all those options in one convenient place. That makes more sense to me than the others. Pancho (my cat) appreciates it, and that's all the thanks I need for doing absolutely nothing.

If you don't have a pampered pet, then you're still at neutral -- no good reasons for or against making your bed. So why bother? I've been following this philosophy for 27 years and have yet to find a rude awakening akin to my mildew map. Having said that, I have a sneaking suspicion that my mother will now conspire with PO'W to give me said rude awakening, perhaps in the form of a ravenous racoon hidden in the tussled covers. That's okay, Pancho will deal with it. My consistent morning lethargy has earned me his support.

I'm not afraid of you.

Today is "Shadow Puppets" Day! Go ahead, have all the fun you want. No strings attached!