Really Good Sheets

I told my husband that for Christmas I wanted some really good sheets– 500 thread count. He dutifully went looking and discovered that to clad our king-size bed that richly would cost $180. Much more than he’d planned to spend for just a part of my Christmas. So, unbeknownst to me, when his mom called asking for ideas for me, he mentioned the sheets.

Now, in general, I am a down-to-earth, non-fluffy kind of gal. Jeans. Unpolished nails. A 3 minute makeup routine. My living room looks homey thanks red paint, tiny twinkle lights strung through a vine wreath, and some really nice photographs, but it also sports a 14 year old couch with a broken spring. And all that is fine with me. So when I heard that hubby had shared my decadent longing for really good sheets with his mom, I was embarrassed. I kinda wished she didn’t know I had such rich tastes.

Nevertheless, I was delighted to find the sheets under the Christmas tree. More than delighted. Last night I slid into bed with my usual delighted sigh, resolving to thank my mother in law again SOON for those sheets. This morning, on awakening, I again noticed the pure decadent luxury of them. I stretched, sliding my arm across the sheets, and encountered– what’s this? … a cold puddle?

My baby had peed my 500 thread count luxury sheets.

Good thing I’m a practical kinda gal.

It’s off to the laundry room with me.