I hate trying to figure out which way the blankets go on the bed when I change the sheets. The directions the flat sheets go on are nicely indicated by the wide hem at the top. I like that. Not so much with the fitted sheets these days. They are gathered all around and I nearly always get the short side along the length before I realize I have it wrong. They could do something about that.
Plus, that's about the time the cat jumps up onto the bed intent on playing. Can he hear the sheets? Really?
Jack and I made the mistake of playing parachute with him once after Jack had his turn. Now, he's a little monster, trying to get into position to play endlessly under the floating sheets. I just wanted to get the stupid job done, not spend an hour trying to fly the queen sized sheet over his head all by myself. Then, as I was routing through the linen closet trying to find the pillow cases I like, he jumped in.
I do not want to imagine him in there, sitting on my hand towels and wash cloths with his naked butt. Doesn't he realize this?
He probably does.
But the worst thing about changing the sheets are the fleece blankets. Don't they understand that if you're in a queen-sized bed, the blanket is almost square? The problem is that it's not quite square either, so it matters if it goes on wrong. And invariably, there's nothing to indicate which way is which.
I know this is petty. What, you wanted me to complain about politics some more? Did you think this was about some referendum or other?
I just hate having to put the damn blankets on wrong each time. Really, I should have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right, but I don't seem to do that. So with two blankets on three beds, I waste a lot of time getting six blankets on wrong before I put them on right.
There should be a law about it.
Thank you for listening, jules
Plus, that's about the time the cat jumps up onto the bed intent on playing. Can he hear the sheets? Really?
Jack and I made the mistake of playing parachute with him once after Jack had his turn. Now, he's a little monster, trying to get into position to play endlessly under the floating sheets. I just wanted to get the stupid job done, not spend an hour trying to fly the queen sized sheet over his head all by myself. Then, as I was routing through the linen closet trying to find the pillow cases I like, he jumped in.
I do not want to imagine him in there, sitting on my hand towels and wash cloths with his naked butt. Doesn't he realize this?
He probably does.
But the worst thing about changing the sheets are the fleece blankets. Don't they understand that if you're in a queen-sized bed, the blanket is almost square? The problem is that it's not quite square either, so it matters if it goes on wrong. And invariably, there's nothing to indicate which way is which.
I know this is petty. What, you wanted me to complain about politics some more? Did you think this was about some referendum or other?
I just hate having to put the damn blankets on wrong each time. Really, I should have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right, but I don't seem to do that. So with two blankets on three beds, I waste a lot of time getting six blankets on wrong before I put them on right.
There should be a law about it.
Thank you for listening, jules
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