When I was growing up, one of our house rules was this: Make your own bed every morning. With one exception: Your birthday.

It became such a routine that I continued making my bed straight through my high school years, my college years and beyond when I lived in a studio apartment with a bed that doubled as a sofa by day.

Perhaps this is why I dont like the look of –or the logic behind –an unmade bed.

Sure, there are some who say, "Why make the bed when I am just going to get in again tonight?"

Im not one of them.

I mean, what is the big deal? Even first daughters Sasha and Malia have to make their beds, weve been told.

With the occasional exception found in the pink bedroom down the hall, we are a family of bed-makers.

And, looking back, while my mother was the one who likely came up with the bed-making rule, I recall it was my father who often made their bed –and with great precision.

Having inherited that perfectionist gene, I not only like beds made –no matter who does the tucking and smoothing –but I like them made neatly.

Pulling up the comforter over tangled sheets is troubling to me. So is spotting a lump under the top layer at the end of a bed.

Is it a stuffed animal? A book? A sock? The cat?

Now that fall is here, and the extra blankets, duvets and flannel sheets are coming out of the linen closet, an unmade bed can look even messier.

So why make your bed?

I make my bed not only because I was raised that way but also because I like how a made bed looks.

I dont like coming home to an unmade bed any more than I like walking downstairs in the morning to a bunch of dirty dishes in the sink. A clean kitchen simply gets the day off to a better start.

Same with beds. First off, making your bed makes your whole bedroom look neater –even if the top of your dresser is messy.

As organizational guru Peter Walsh has said: "You should make the bed every morning, because straightaway it gives a sense of order in the bedroom."

But thats only part of it.

Crawling into an unmade bed at the end of an exhausting day is far less appealing than sliding into a neatly made bed.

Things get lost in unmade beds.

And it looks better. Did I mention that?

Good bed-making dates back centuries, complete with the decorative top cover used to keep bed arrangements clean and beautiful while not in use, writes Cheryl Mendelson in her book "Home Comforts: The Art & Science of Keeping House" (Scribner, $35).

"Museums have Renaissance paintings of beds made up just like yours," she writes.

Hilary Duff recently told People magazine that she even makes the bed in her hotel room before she leaves.

"I just feel like everyone would know I was staying there, and I wouldnt want it to look messy," she said.

So why make your bed?

As a writer once put it: Pride of place is a good thing. Sleep on it.