Killer sheets

While perusing the aisles of my favorite store, I spied satin pillowcases on sale. I had noticed a dry spot on the back of my noggin and that’s all I needed to justify my purchase. No more matted hair for me! The following week the entire bed sheet set was available and since I’ve already invested in the pillowcases, it was a done deal.

I raced home, tore off the old set and slapped these new threads on the bed. They were hermetically sealed, and seeing how I’m the president of instant gratification that was fine with me. That night, when BBB entered the bedroom suite (I know that sounds rather la Dee da) he was excited. “This will be easier for me to move around in,” he declared. That’s me - generous to a fault as long as it matches the decor.

We were so proud of ourselves looking mighty fine in our satin pink sheets we could have posed for an advertisement for a movie. Around 11:30 I found myself rotating trying to get comfortable. You would’ve thought I was a rotating $4.99 chicken at the deli. I was slipping and sliding like a verse from that 1950s recording. I tried to sleep but I was exhausted from trying to get comfortable. I could feel BBB wrestling with the sheets too. I didn’t want to wake him up to tell him how unusually slippery they were. Finally, I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, as we sat down at the breakfast table, he said “I gotta tell you, I was laughing at 3 o’clock this morning because these sheets are crazy feeling.” That’s when I raised my hand and said “I’m sorry, honey, but these sheets are too slippery for us. I can’t sleep. Maybe we’re not satin people. I slid off them a million times.”

We finally came up with a compromise. We’d get rid of the top sheet and cover ourselves in Velcro. It sounded like a plan, but ultimately, we decided not to Velcro ourselves. Surely, we couldn’t be as miserable as we were the night before. We were so exhausted from the lack of shut eye, you have thought we could sleep. But no, we kept on sliding off and the pillows kept on sliding off each other. Maybe if we had maids when we were young who ironed our sheets when we were kids we would have been used to the satin.

The following morning, we had the same results except I was getting bags under my eyes. He complained he was losing his beauty sleep. When he came down the stairs he told me he slid out of bed and almost ended it on the floor. He dragged me upstairs and reenacted his perilous plot.

“I was getting on the bed, and my feet hit the floor and I missed the rug and slid off the edge.

Man, these sheets are so slippery.” That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. All he needed was a broken hip. We don’t have time for that foolishness, then I got to thinking how many broken hips there might be because people slept in satin sheets.

That’s it - we’re cotton people - that’s all there is to it! I’m a pronto kind of gal. If I know something is not right or dangerous, I change it. We ripped those killer sheets off the bed faster than you could say “satin sheets to lie on!”

All is not lost; I have them in the wash and I’m gonna have them ready for company that overstays their invitation.