You can't push the bedsheets

Black Friday 2008, Buttercup and I break our tradition of sleeping in and laughing at those who rise early. 7am mind you (we're not insane), scatter about a few hours searching for the best of deals. Unfortunately, we are not consumers. We almost end up out for breakfast. We end up at Kohl's with a 6 pack of kids Nike socks, not eligible for the $10 coupon that got us there because it was a "door buster". West Michigan is seriously a classic place to visit if you did not know. I heard time and time again desperate mothers pleading with frazzled workers. "Is there ~ANYTHING~ here that this coupon works for... in the $10.01 range?" We toss the socks back on the shelf. No 1/2 hour line for us for a pair of socks.

We set sights for the linens department at JCPenney. 600 count sheets to replace the ripped ones on our bed we had dealt with for almost a year. Lines... but we were determined.

Fast forward... to the frost.

The crisp feeling of clean sheets is joy enough, but new, a virtual oasis of sorts. Smooth and cool, you could almost fall out if you lost your balance. I generally hit the sheets a half hour before the Mrs. The sheets are cooler... and she is like a radiator. I spend enough time setting all the sheets into place. Tug, pull, stretch to assure there is an equitable distribution of blankets. Layers of heat saving warmth for the both of us. ...~> Enters the thief. The room is dark and none are the wiser. Ease the door open then close, brush the teeth, slide in and doze off.

I picture the angels and demons battling each night. Not the real ones. The ones you might see on bugs bunny... "Cling and Roll Woman, Cling and Roll" I picture the sheets receding like a time elapsed photo of mountain snow in the heat of a warm spring day. What was once there is now all but gone. I wake in the fetal position "chilled" my t-shirt all that's left. On the opposing side of the bed a pile of sheets stacking up. There it is, stacked and wrinkled like a herd of Shar-Peis laying at the side of the bed. Buttercup is engulfed in a heap of warmth. Guilt free, asleep.

the strange attempt at a moral (since I promised):
You see, it was never her intention to take more than she needed. Her greater desire is do the right thing. In fact, I've even caught her middle of the night standing on my side dragging the sheets back. But she couldn't just push them back, she needed to get out and come to my side. Intentional. Selfishness is innate. Part of our depraved nature. It takes an intentional effort to notice where you are clinging on too tight and to recognize those in need around you. What do we need? Really.

Navin R. Johnson:
And that's it and that's the only thing I need, is this. I don't need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball. And this lamp. The ashtray, this paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need. And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing, not one - I need this. The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And this. And that's all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair.