This post bought to you by: Snuggle–The Ultimate Fabric Softener
For all of you that have met my mother, you know what a neat-freak she is. For those of you who have seen my room pre-cleaning check, you know how I have not followed in that particular path. (Come steal my frysauce sometime, though, and then you’ll see how I’m my mother’s daughter. Come on, I dare you.)
There is, however, one trait of my dear mother’s that I have picked up on: Clean Sheet Night.
In my house, Clean Sheet Night was always on Fridays. My mom would take the greatest care in washing her sheets and making her bed nicely afterwards, always doing some sort of tribal chant about her clean sheets. As she crawled into bed that night, she would do so with a giddy grin on her face, murmuring “clean sheets” as she drifted off to sleep. Normally, being the wonderful, loving daughter that I am, I would mock her for this weekly ritual. When I got to college, though, I realized how much I appreciated Clean Sheet Night. I may not do it weekly (I don’t have the time or the money for such nonsense) but, boy do I love my clean sheets.
Clean Sheet Night starts right after I pull the sheets out of the dryer–nice and warm, hopefully smelling like the laundry room back at home (Although no guarantees there. My mother does magic with her laundry and I can never get mine to smell quite the same way. That’s a post for another day, though.) Next comes the ironing. Don’t laugh–this I definitely picked up from my mom. I don’t iron all of my sheets–generally just the top edge that I fold over and my pillow case. And so what if I use my straightener to get them flat? Sometimes a college girl has to do what a college girl with limited resources has to do. After this important step, the bed must be made. It doesn’t matter if I’m getting into it 5 minutes later–the bed must be made with the utmost care. We’re talking army-inspection quality, here. When Clean Sheet Night comes, it’s also vital to slip into bed with clean-shaven and freshly lotioned legs. This provides ultimate comfort as you drift off to sleep, happy and dreaming in your clean sheets.
Yes, I am crazy. Blame my mother.