“Don’t Be Clever”
I think I was probably eight or nine; Gram and Papa were up visiting for a weekend. Gram happened to notice that I hadn’t made my bed one morning. I knew how to make my bed; my mom had taught me to make it when I was four. But I guess I didn’t want to deal with Gram giving me a hard time about not making my bed, so when she asked me why I hadn’t made it, I said, “I don’t know how.”