When two people share a bed, their religious views are laid bare. There is ritual and tradition attached to the peculiar institution we call sleeping. The mattress is our altar which we cover with sheets, blankets, and pillows before we lay down our bodies in sacrifice to Morpheus.
My sister untucks the blankets to allow her feet freedom to roam in case they get restless. I like my toes securely tucked in where they are safe from things that go pinch in the night. I recently witnessed my sister engage in the untucking ritual. It shocked me; I thought she was a toe-tucker like me. All these years, I had been living in a fool’s paradise.
The question was: “Would our relationship survive?” Could she accept a toe-tucker for a sister? Could I live with her freedom-loving feet? These are essential questions that can lie dormant for years until the night two people have to share a bed when they are visiting their mother who decides to put her daughters in the back bedroom.
When we were children, I did not like waiting for my sister to get up in the morning so we could make the bed together. I had places to go, people to meet, and things to do. So I made my half of the bed in the morning before I left for school. It was something I did religiously.
I can still make one half of a bed. The gods are pleased.