John and I have a very comfy queen sized bed with a deep, thick mattress atop a split box spring.

Over the past few years, it has become our one indulgence to purchase quality, high thread count sheets.

We started out with a three hundred thread count, then moved up to five hundred, then to one thousand. Along the way, we’ve learned that purchasing sheets by thread count alone doesn’t always give you the best sheets… weave, fiber, finish, as well as where the sheets are made are equally important. (Just for the record, Italy and France make some of the best.)

As, we grew our queen sized luxury sheet collection we found ourselves sliding into bed every night feeling like we were at a five-star hotel. What a wonderful feeling!

Unfortunately, like most nice things that you own as parents, our sheets began to disappear.

Me: “John, why is there no top sheet on our bed?”

John: “I couldn’t find it, not the one that matched anyway.”

Me: “Seriously? Is it in the wash? It has to be around here somewhere! We spent a lot of money so we could have nice sheets.”

The months passed and our five-star hotel experience was starting to become more like a last-minute stay at an old Howard Johnsons motel when your car breaks down.

Me: (As I’m making our bed) “Why do our sheets have holes in the corners?”

John: “I guess the boys were nailing them up in the basement to make walls for their man cave.”

“Are you kidding me?” I replied, as I stamped down to our unfinished basement and pulled back a nailed up sheet to address my video-gaming sons in their man cave.

Clenching the sheet tightly in my fist, I yelled: “This is a European, one- thousand-thread-count sheet that now has rusted nail holes in it!”

My sons glanced up from their video games and stared at me like I had three heads or was speaking in tongues before saying, “Sorry Mom” in unison.

After working ten days in a row and then fifteen hours on Wednesday, I came home late at night, to pull back the covers and find a flat sheet on our bed where our European cotton, open-weave, satin finish, deep pocket, fitted sheet used to fit snugly.

“Sorry Erin, I can’t find any of our fitted sheets,” John said.

“That’s it! I’m restarting our luxury sheet collection!” I replied.

This week I bought my first new set.

And do you know what else?

When my sons become parents, I’m buying each their first expensive, high-quality, one-thousand-thread-count sheet set.

When they come to tell me that the beautiful sheets that I bought them ended up…

A) In the dog crate.

B) Used in a tree fort.

C) Cut to make a princess train for a Disney costume,

Or,

D) Nailed to the ceiling of a “Man Cave.”

I’m just going to smile and say, “Awww, that sucks, huh?” while I try to hold back my laughter.

In the meantime, I’m going to guard my new luxury sheet set with my life.

I know that I’ll need it for a good night sleep…

But I just may need to tie the top sheet into knots before throwing it out of my bedroom window to make my great escape.

I’ll let you know how it turns out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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3 thoughts on “3 Sheets To The Wind

  1. Oh my gosh, how timely this post is! I spent at least an hour standing in front of a sheet display last night. I opened the little zippered corners so I could feel the sheets. They couldn’t be too soft and flannel-like because we both turn over a lot in bed and I swear the fitted sheet just revolts as it disengages itself from the mattress in its bid for escape. Sheets are difficult but a good set is worth every penny.

    Liked by 1 person

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