Forgive and Forget? Sure. But Not Fitted Sheets.

I don’t hold grudges. Honestly, I don’t have the time, the energy, or the stomach acid for it. Life’s too short and my peace is too expensive.

That said…

I am still a little mad at the person who invented fitted sheets.

You know who you are.

Why did you make something so necessary and yet so maddeningly impossible to fold? Was it a bet? A cruel joke? A challenge to future generations? Because let me tell you — we lost.

Every time I try to fold one, I end up inside it. My arms disappear. The elastic wraps around me like a boa constrictor, and suddenly I’m in the middle of a one-man magic trick I can’t escape. The corners? They mock me. I match one, then the other goes rogue. It’s like trying to wrestle a jellyfish made of laundry.

So yes. If I’m holding a grudge against anything, it’s that. Not a person. Not a wound. Just… cotton chaos.

And maybe that’s the point. We’re all going to get tangled up in something now and then. Life’s messy. But some messes — like crumpled sheets and crumpled feelings — are better off smoothed out.

So here’s to letting go of what doesn’t serve us. Unless it’s a fitted sheet. That thing’s staying in the closet — wadded up like a fabric burrito. And I’m fine with that.

About Douglas Blaine

Capnpen is a writer who was a newspaper and magazine journalist in a previous life. A college journalism major, he now works as an English teacher, but gets his writing fix by blogging about a variety of topics, including politics, religion, movies and television. When he's not working or blogging, Capnpen spends time with his family, plays a little golf (badly) and loves to learn about virtually anything.

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