Saturday, November 14, 2009
What is so cathartic about clean sheets? My daddy used to call clean sheets "clean fleeces". That was what his Scottish grandmother always called them. I thought that was the coolest thing until I shared it with one of my classmates in school. In third grade some things get lost in translation. This was one of them. It was a long time before I brought up that subject again.
Maybe this is one of the luxuries of staying in fine hotels - the clean towels and sheets, as well as those snazzy tiny shampoo bottles (and the mini-bar - but we won't go there.) Now the big deal is the thread count and the type of cotton used in sheets. And, I will admit, it matters to me. Let's face it, if I'm going to spend a third of my life wrapped in something, I want to be comfortable.
I knew I had truly ruined my children when I found my youngest daughter going through the linen closet throwing things on the floor in disgust. When I asked her what the problem was, she replied (in a not too friendly tone) that there were no clean sheets for her bed with more than a 300 thread count. Now this is spoken from the child who has never done well with math concepts. Perhaps the school should try a linen curriculum.
For the longest time, I thought that folding a fitted sheet was an impossible task. Every time I tried, I got frustrated attempting the seemingly impossible. I seriously considered going and buying a fitted sheet just to be able to bring it home, carefully open it up and photograph each step as I unfolded it to reveal its secrets. I am proud to say, however, I finally learned how to correctly fold a fitted sheet (Full disclosure here: Martha showed me how - It's a good thing)
This is the one Saturday morning chore that gives me great gratification. I know that evening when I crawl into bed, no matter what happened that day, I will have the satisfaction of clean fleeces.