My parents rotated the mattress this week, the seventh time in almost a quarter century. 

Dad keeps a schedule written on an  envelope that gets tucked between the mattress and the box spring.

It was last rotated on the Ides of March 2024. Before that: Dec. 19, 2022; Feb. 12, 2016; Dec. 2, 2013; Feb. 15, 2011 and Jan. 27, 2007. The pole position was established June 11, 2001.

The mattress was shifted this week because my brother and his wife were visiting and able to lend a hand. 

The handwritten note isn’t really a schedule; It’s more of a ledger. Dad writes down the dates and positions so it’s not forgotten or mixed up.

It’s a simple but effective system. The position and side of the mattress is indicated by a notation for the headboard and a small triangle for the manufacturer’s label. The triangle is colored dark if it’s facing up.

Each rotation requires a flip and turn of 180 degrees. The drawing keeps you on track so you know when and where you are, as well as the places you’ve been.

The purpose of the rotation is, of course, to extend the life of the mattress so it doesn’t wear out.

According to the International Sleep Products Association (ISPA), the average lifespan of a mattress is typically 7 to 10 years.

Rotating the mattress is an example of the frugality that has defined the Greatest Generation. Born in 1926, dad was literally a child of Depression. 

Dad has a similar rotation schedule for the carpets in the living room. It is written on a sheet of paper inserted into a plastic sheath and placed underneath one end of the rug.

One of the things I appreciate about my Dad’s system and commitment to rotating the mattress is that it is episodic, but not a rigid timetable. That’s one way you can tell a healthy practice from an obsession.

I don’t know how many other people rotate their mattresses. 

I know I’ve never done it. 

In that way, you can say that the apple fell a little too far from the tree.