This post is about sheets. Yes, sheets. Here is the story.
About two months ago, one of our (ancient) sets of sheets ripped, rendering them unusable. Since we naturally had other sets, it was no emergency to replace them. It was just one of those things to get around to.
One Saturday, while I was at the vet with our dogs, Mr. L was next door at Sears, picking up something. He happened to walk through their “home” area and saw a clearance sale on sheets. He noticed they even had our size, California King, and that they had some on sale for $49.99. He picked them up, collected me and the dogs, and we headed home.
The sheets did not hit the bed immediately (which is an unfortunate part of this story). First, they had to be washed and dried. Then, we were going out of town, so I didn’t bother putting them on the bed for about two weeks.
When I finally did, I had quite a revelation. 800-thread count sheets are amazing. They are life-changing. It isn’t just that they are buttery-soft (they are) or have the perfect weight (they do) or are crisp and cool. I had no idea. Imagine: Married for 31 years, and we just didn’t know these sorts of sheets existed. There is a problem, though.
I can’t go back.
It is time for these sheets to be stripped and washed and dried. It is time for set #2 (which I liked perfectly well, in another age) to come out and be snapped and tucked onto the bed. However, I am stalling. I want to be an impractical person who washes and dries her favorite sheets all in one day. However, Mr. L does the laundry around here (lest I turn it all pink), and he has a system (naturally) and we also line-dry. Folks, this is Hilo, 128 inches of rain a year, and the odds of having a sunny day on sheet-laundry-day are fairly flippin’ slim.
Of course, Mr. L went back to Sears, once we were hooked on our sheet-drug, to score another set. Sorry, all out.
Coincidentally, while writing this post, I received an e-mail from my father and stepmother wherein my stepmother discussed a store in her area that is now carrying 2,000 thread count sheets. My mind was blown. I cannot even comprehend how comfortable those might be.
I might as well now don a hair shirt, if I must return (albeit temporarily) to percale.