I’ve needed new sheets for some time now. I have a queen size bed, but I always buy king size sheets because I hate making the bed and slamming my knuckles up against the wall while trying to get that last corner of the fitted sheet over the edge of the mattress.
Due to my home makeover project, I ended up with only one set of sheets for my bed. I need two complete sets of sheets because I do my household chores using the 1-2-3-yank-the-band-aid method. With only one set of sheets, I have to yank twice—once to strip the bed and once to remake it after the laundry is done. That’s bad enough. But then I forget that I’m waiting for my sheets to dry and I straggle into my bedroom around midnight, seconds away from a Lindsay Lohan collapse, and I’m slapped in the face by my naked bed.
Have you priced king sheets lately? To get anything under $70 for the set, you have to go down to a thread count of 2. I don’t want a thread count of 2, I want a thread count of 250 or more. (Yes, I am a princess and I can tell a difference.)
I’ve been looking at king sheets for months but I can’t make myself pay $70 for two pieces of fabric. It goes against everything I believe in. I also can’t buy used sheets at the thrift store. That goes against everything I pretend to believe in. I suppose I could go to the fabric store and—no. Best not to go down that dangerous road, not even in my fantasy world where I can sew and cook.
I recently found myself at one of those fancy, schmancy specialty stores looking for a 9” double-sided (regular/4Xs magnification) mirror with an adjustable light rim around the edge connected to a 360 degree rotating frame attached to a remote control robotic extension arm that screws into the wall, allowing you to see both the front of your face and the back of your head at the same time. I didn’t find it. But I did see king sheets with a pretty rose pattern for only $29.99, regular price. What a find! What a bonus! What a gift from heaven!
Then I put them on the bed. They are cut the wrong way. When I put the bigger fold (there is probably a technical name for it, but we just call it the “drool catcher”) up at the head of the bed there wasn’t enough sheet left to tuck in at the bottom, and it hung over the sides nearly touching the floor.
Ah. That’s why the price was so nice.
This is not a problem actually because although I’m compulsive about many things, having the pattern on my sheets turned the right direction is not one of them. Nobody sees them. Not even me because I use them with my eyes closed. I just wish they had been upfront about it. There’s a bit of a thrill in getting a great deal on “irregulars.” Had I known, I might have bought two sets because I would know I was getting a high quality product with a few teensy weensy flaws—kind of like me.
Now playing on my real iPod: All I Ever Have to Be by Amy Grant