Mission Impossible

Travel Trailer Bed-Making Olympics

5 min read

We all know that making the bed at home is a relatively simple task: throw on a fitted sheet, pull the corners tight, smooth and tuck in the flat sheet, fluff the pillows, and boom—done. Easy. 5 to 10 minutes, max. But, oh, my friend, this is not the case when you're making a bed in a tiny travel trailer. Oh no, this isn’t just making a bed. This is an Olympic-level gymnastics routine mixed with an aerobics workout, all while you squeeze your body into positions that were clearly never meant to be humanly possible. 🤪

The Prelude: "Sure, This Will Be Easy"

First, you walk into your 13-foot travel trailer. You look at the bed. You think, “How hard can it be, right?” After all, you’ve made a bed a thousand times in your life. You know the drill. A full-sized bed is what? 54 inches wide? Pfft, piece of cake. WRONG. You’ve made a grave mistake. 😨 What you don’t know is that this bed is a contortionist's nightmare. You can only access one side of the mattress—because, surprise!—the other side is jammed up against a wall, a window, and what looks like a very judgmental looking storage closet.

At this point, you’re mentally preparing for a marathon session of awkward bending, stretching, and sweating. You know this is going to take longer than you want to admit, but the universe needs you to make this bed.

The Fitted Sheet Fiasco

You begin with the fitted sheet. Easy, right? Think again.

You can’t just “walk around” like you would in a normal bedroom. No, this is an obstacle course. Your first move is to attempt a daring acrobatic twist to reach the far corner of the bed. But, much to your dismay, the mattress is locked in a death grip with the wall. You grab the sheet, and immediately realize it’s a game of Where Do My Hands Go Now? You try to shove the corner under the mattress from the one side that’s accessible, but the mattress doesn’t move. No matter how hard you pull, it won’t budge.

So, you climb onto the bed like you’re about to do a full-on gymnast dismount, arms flailing, knees locked in the most unnatural of angles. Now you’re wedged between the mattress and the wall. You take a deep breath. Your arm is stuck at a 45-degree angle under the mattress, trying to tuck that one corner in, but it’s not happening.

Finally…. the first corner is on, only for the it to pop right back out the second you try to reach for the other corner. You’re grunting. You’re sweating. Really sweating. 🥵 Not knowing how, you manage to get one corner of the fitted sheet over the mattress—victory! But wait, there’s more. You still have to get the other three corners into place. You pull, you wiggle... and bam! You’ve nearly given yourself a hernia in the process. You get the second corner on. And the third. But that fourth corner? It’s a battle. A fight to the death. The only thing between you and victory is your own inability to reach the farthest corner of the bed without pulling some combination of aerobics moves and physical feats.

Somehow, someway, the fitted sheet is on. It’s slightly askew and you’re 80% sure there’s a section that didn’t quite make it over the mattress, but who’s going to notice, right? You give up and collapse onto the bed, feeling like an Olympic gymnast who just performed a flawless routine under extreme duress.

The Top Sheet Struggle

Now, onto the top sheet. You’ve survived the fitted sheet, so how bad can the top sheet be? It can be very bad, thank you for asking. 🤔

This is where things get a little too interesting. You’re faced with the reality that access to the mattress is from one side and only the halfway point at that. You’re now working with one arm and you try to stretch the top sheet across the bed. You yank. You tug. You hold your breath in hopes that it just magically falls into place, but nope. You look like you're doing an interpretive dance with a sheet. And somehow, you still can't get the corners tucked in without feeling like you're one wrong move away from a back injury.😬

You lie down on the bed (because that’s the only way to reach the far corner) and twist yourself into a pretzel. The awkwardness is real. If anyone could see you, they'd be wondering if you were inventing a new type of exercise routine. You’re now convinced this is how Olympic athletes train for events like the vault and the uneven bars.

After what feels like a marathon of squirming, you finally manage to get the top sheet on. It’s not ideal, but it’s on. The corners are... well, let’s say “loosely tucked.” You’re out of breath but you’re at peace with it.

The Comforter Conundrum

Ah, the comforter. The piece de resistance. The cherry on top of this sweaty mess of an experience. You unfold it, but... what is this? The comforter is way too long. Or the bed is way too short. Either way, there’s no way to make this thing look neat and crisp without pulling every muscle in your body.

You start at one end, pulling the comforter up, trying to get it to drape evenly over the mattress. But nope—it's too big, and the trailer’s cramped layout makes it impossible to spread out evenly. You pull the comforter, but it bunches up in a weird way. You’ve got it over the foot of the bed, but somehow there’s a pile of fabric where the pillows should go. You wrestle with it, but nothing seems to work.

By now, you’re drenched in sweat, your arms and back are sore, and you’ve given up on achieving anything even close to neat. You just want it to look... okay, no need for perfection. You place the pillows strategically on top to hide your battle scars—otherwise known as the reality of trying to make a bed in a space the size of a shoebox.

The Grand Finale

You step back, panting, and admire your handiwork. The bed is... done. 🤩 There are lumps. There are wrinkles. But you’ve somehow managed to create something resembling a bed, and that, my friends, is an accomplishment in itself.

Your body aches in places you didn’t know could ache. Your arms are throbbing. Your back is questionable. But you did it. You’ve completed the gymnastics routine of a lifetime, and in 30 minutes (instead of the usual 5), you’ve made your bed, and you didn’t break anything. But, let's be honest, you're not looking forward to this again.... you might just have to invest in some zippered sheets.

So, next time someone asks you to make the bed in a travel trailer, remember: it’s not just a chore, it's an athletic event. Prepare accordingly. 😜