I would much rather fly to DC than deal with fitted sheets

Why the heck are fitted bed sheets always messing with my mind? Seriously, it is like they are out to get me. I am convinced it is their sole purpose in life is to drive me insane. And it’s working. Damn them and the elastic-edged, tanglely troubles that they cause me!

No, I know what you are assuming, but I am not talking about folding them. Folding them is easy, once you learn how. And being able to properly fold fitted sheets is apparently something every grandma and yacht stewardess knows how to do with their eyes closed. Neither of my grandmas ever taught me how, they probably heard that one quote about how life is too short to fold fitted sheets. Not wanting to waste my time with menial, old fashion chores, they instead spent their time feeding me chocolate milk and stories from the “olden days.” I liked that a lot more. Thankfully, I quickly learned the art of folding fitted sheets once I became a stewardess. So, mystery solved.

There are however two, fitted sheet mysteries that still remain…

First of all, I cannot, for the life of me, understand how the heck they manage to get so tangled up in the dryer. I pull the sheets out of the washer, shake them out so they aren’t all crumpled up and put them in the dryer. I press start. About an hour and a half later I hear the buzzer signaling the end of the cycle. Fantasizing about the fresh, warm sheets that await, I skip happily to the laundry room, only to be severely disappointed. The sheets are about 2% dry, because they have bound themselves up into the tightest ball imaginable and only the outside layer managed to get dry. Have you ever tried to pull apart a wet fitted sheet ball? It is like trying to take off really tight, soaked jeans after you fell in the pool. Hope you have superhuman strength; you’re going to need it. So now I have to babysit my sheets while they are drying. Constantly interrupting whatever other tasks I am doing; checking in on them every so often, making sure they are drying the other 98%. And I know what you’re going to say, why don’t you just hang up the sheets to dry? To which I will reply, get out. Just leave. Seriously. Warm, fresh, dryer-dried sheets are exactly the kind of luxury our ancestors have evolved, fought and died for us to have. Get with the times; embrace technology and the heartwarming indulgences that come along with it.

Now comes time to put the sheets back on the bed, where the second mystery looms. Which way do they go on?! While making a queen or king size bed I get it wrong every time. Maybe my judgment is off or it is a trick of the elastic, but the sheets look exactly square. Maybe not exactly square, but so close that I can’t tell the difference. So I grab a corner and just hope I got it correct, I have a 50/50 chance right? Wrong. It usually takes me about 4 times of turning the sheet to get it right. Which, I know, is mathematically impossible. But somehow, with me, anything is possible. And you never really know if you have it on the right way until you stretch it across to the third corner. Which is three quarters of the way through the job, and that is a long time for someone with such a high un-success rate. (Wow! Look at me using all these math references today, and I don’t usually do math on Fridays!) Sometimes you can tell on the second corner, but other times, when the sheet is feeling especially tricksie, it will slide ever so willingly over that curve, feeding your high hopes for a perfect fit. But the third corner always tells the truth.

So basically washing sheets and putting them back on the bed properly takes longer than a flight from LA to DC. I would much rather be spending my time flying; reading books, enjoying the inflight movie, and eating peanuts. That all sounds a thousand more times enjoyable than wrestling with a stubborn fitted sheet that is out to get me.

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Smelling like flowers is the only redeeming quality of freshly dried sheets

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