the merits of free sheets
Free being the operative word here. As I have mentioned before, I am a rather thrifty person (at least when it comes to antiques, or bus fare, or finding food), so I never would have just gone out willy-nilly, nor would I have simply purchased sheets on my own. That is just too much forethought and concentration for someone already running on limited resources. Up until this February, I’d spent the preceding decade getting ready for bed by picking dried bird poop off my pillows, which – to be honest – is a somewhat unnerving affair. Even for the seasoned birder who doesn’t recoil in horror when faced with bird excrement – figuratively or literally – when said poops are in one’s personal sans-clothing environment, it is somewhat disquieting. We’re civilized people.
For the ten years that I had been laying my head to rest on befouled linens, my sister had been enjoying the comforts of regularly laundered bedclothes. Neither of us knew that our lucks would soon reverse, as Holly the rooster entered her life, and sullied bedsheets departed mine. With Holly, the need for sheets became critical in order to fully impede the wake of debris that trailed behind him. The Gallus gallus domesticus may be a refined creature who prides themselves on maintaining elegant plumage at all times, but aware they are not when it comes to stepping in their own poopies and then tracking them around the house.
Of course, this was not discovered until the unfortunate events had already occurred, but by this time I was the obliviously happy owner of a free bedsheet courtesy of my sister. The day I got it was the day I said hello to clean pillows (well, let’s be honest, I forget to cover them all the time, so theoretically, I am no longer picking poop off my pillows. But that’s good enough for me).
