So I started making my bed in the morning. Now I didn't have to do it at night, and as a bonus, it looked nice all day! For a while I had mixed feelings about this, though. I'd mutter in my head, Yeah, yeah, Dad, OK, it's best to make the bed in the morning, you were right, now shut up.The Bed-Making Story (Thanks, Rihatsu!)
Later I started muttering stuff like: Think you're so smart, Dad? Can you imagine if you'd just waited it out, never mentioning bed-making ever when I was young? I probably would have started making my bed in the morning long before this, with no prompting at all, and you could have come to my first apartment and seen my nicely made bed, and then you'd have seen how well I turned out and how I didn't need all the nagging to get that way. Oh, but then you'd have been unable to pat yourself on the back for having trained me that way, so I guess you wouldn't have like that so well after all.
Later still, I thought something more like, Well, regardless, your issues are your own, Dad, and I guess I can't know. I like making my bed in the morning. Guess that's all there is to it.
Eventually I guess I stopped talking to my dad in my head quite so much around bed-making time. And many years passed.
I write books. My latest is a YA science fiction novel called Homeland (it's the sequel to Little Brother). More books: Rapture of the Nerds (a novel, with Charlie Stross); With a Little Help (short stories); and The Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow (novella and nonfic). I speak all over the place and I tweet and tumble, too.