The next morning Patrick tried to help PJ make his bed.  "I can never get it to look the way your mother does," said Patrick.

"Crick, could you come in here and show us what we are doing wrong?" called Patrick.

"I'm making breakfast," called Cricket.  "Is it an emergency?"

"Not the kind to dial 911," laughed Patrick, but we could use your help.

Cricky fell for the trap. She came bounding in to "show the men" how to make the bed. 

"Sure," she said.  "You have to tuck in all the sides, smooth, tuck, smooth, tuck."

"Make sure you tuck in the foot of the bed, and smooth, tuck again."
she said, inspecting the nice folded lines of her work. 
Patrick and PJ started laughing uncontrollably.  "Thank you for making the bed for us," they said.

"That, my son," said Patrick laughing, "is how you make the bed." 

"Ok wise guys," said Cricket, "it's time for PJ's medicine."

Just then, they heard a fire engine siren outside.

PJ ran to the window to look.

"Is it an emergency?" asked Patrick.

"Uncle Kramer is here!" he howled.  "The fire truck is dropping off Uncle Kramer!"

PJ dashed out of the room to see Colonel Kramer.