My Toughest Opponent
I dread hotel rooms. Not the actual room, per say, but what lies in the middle of that room. It could be a twin, double or even king-sized bed made for two. It could be bunk beds, a waterbed or even a futon. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that one layer removed from the top of the bedspread or comforter rests a top sheet and that top sheet is my sworn mortal enemy.
Yes, I realize how irrational and trivial this may sound. Who has an adversary that is made up of a poly cotton blend or even sometimes pure silk? An enemy that consistently refuses to fold properly and in fact, requires a partner to do so. A deadly opponent who has beat me again and again at the game of tug of war. Tight, scratchy, and never pulled up high enough, a top sheet offers zero purpose and provides no solace to those in desperate need of sleep.
At the end of the bed, where the sheet and the mattress come together is where my hate originates from. Military style bed making by professional hotel housekeepers will keep me up all night due to my kicking feverishly and lashing out, as I try to force my feet from the prison the hotel wants to keep me in.
You would never believe what the top sheet has put me through in my own home; the hiding of television remotes in every nook and cranny and the sheets ability to always tumble down from each corner of the bed, defying to stay tucked in, is just the beginning of this harsh treatment.
Not to mention, getting twisted around my body like a cocoon that resembles being suffocated in your sleep by a midnight intruder, and the fact that it has provided just one more thing for my husband and I to argue about in bed…the top sheet has got to go.
I have heard others say, a rebuttal of sorts, that the top sheet is a glorious addition to the bed ensemble. They argue on and on that a sheet can protect you from the potential rough surfaces of the quilt above or even believe that the top sheet is the one thing that can keep you cool at night. Neither of those arguments stand a chance against the cream, beige or even white straitjacket that I have contended with when in battle with my greatest foe, the top sheet.
So, I will continue to make my comfortable king bed with only half of the sheet to appease my better half and allow my legs to have the freedom they deserve. I will no longer search for the remote on my side of the bed nor will I steal the sheet from the snoozer lying next to me.
My hotel stays, though few and far between, will now begin with liberating each corner of the bed from the oppressed treatment the sheets have been subjected to, so that the battle of the war will have been won, by me, before it ever has begun. Yes, the top sheet, though an unwavering and always diligent rival, will never be too much for my loathing and triumphant spirit.