Tuesday, December 11, 2012

The Cursed Sheets

These are my favorite sheets:
They are Tommy Hilfiger, camouflage patterned sheets, and the irony of every single word of that description delights me. I love knowing that should we do some stealth sleeping in the jungle, our sheets would simply blend into the background.

They also happen to have an insanely high thread count, so sliding into my impossible-to-detect-in-jungle-warfare sheets is like crawling into a bed made with insanely high thread count sheets. (No fair expecting hilarious similes when I haven't had any coffee yet today.)

Then, about a year ago, something happened.
Wreaking havoc on my parents' things and sleep since 2010.

LO was sleeping with us one night--the night after I had just placed these sheets on the bed, so they still had the clean and new feeling--when his 12-hour diaper decided it was more of a "7 hours really ought to do it" diaper. To make a long story short, the child managed to pee all over my favorite sheets.

I duly laundered said sheets and placed them back on the bed the very same day.

That night, it happened again.

One might infer from this story that what we have is a diaper problem. To that I say "au contraire."

Because I have placed these sheets on the bed about once every month for the past year, and each time I do so, LO manages to micturate upon them within 24 hours of their placement upon the bed. This happens with depressing regularity even though he technically sleeps in his own bed now and is capable of staying dry for at least part of the night. Somehow, there still manages to be a diaper malfunction on these sheets and only these sheets every time I put them on our bed.

I actually started avoiding putting these sheets on the bed. I have come to regard them as indicative of more laundry for me, rather than relaxed and sardonic sleep.

On Sunday of this week, I again hesitated before making the bed with them. But I like to believe I'm not a superstitious person, so I squared my shoulders, made the bed, and said "Take that!" to the gods of urinary incontinence.

I was gratified to get through not only Sunday night, but also Monday night with dry sheets. The curse was broken! I would actually get a week of use out of my favorite sheets! Huzzah!

Unfortunately, I was congratulating myself too soon.

This morning, LO woke up around 7:15 and crawled into bed with me and J. He had been there for less than five minutes when I felt that old familiar trickle...

Yet again, his diaper or his aim seems to have been faulty. Yet again, I found myself de-sheeting our connubial couch and re-sheeting the bed with a lesser set of linens.

There are only two possible conclusions:

1. I have cursed sheets.

2. LO can't see the camouflage and thinks he's just letting loose into wild jungle undergrowth.

Either way, I'm probably going to have to just put these sheets away for good, aren't I?

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