Life is full of mysteries. So many things to learn as we travel our path. I have accepted who I am currently, and what I can do currently. I have set some short and some long term goals. Never, ever, did I set a goal for folding a fitted sheet. I have tried, and do try each time they are laundered, to make sense of the slippery, puffy fabric. And each time, I mutter “good enough” as I smush the unruly things onto a hidden shelf in the closet.
Folding sheets is one the myriad of mysterious tasks I have seen accomplished on TV and often wonder if it is real. Like having your entire house clean all at once. Or a garden with anything other than weeds. Or a clear desktop. Or an empty sink. Or a flat tummy with no stretch marks. And the one that I will never understand – the dinner party – with fancy plate settings, several courses, various stemware and silver. Do adults really do this? Does some poor hostess slave for days to create this table and the meals, and then serve her guests without one little hair out of place? And her shoes match her dress and the decor? and Or is it just a Martha Stewart myth to make the rest of us feel inferior and buy more of her products?
I can make lovely, elaborate origami creatures. I can solve a Rubik’s Cube. I can make delicate meringue cookies. I can put pants, socks and matching shoes, and tie the shoes on a squirming toddler. But I can’t fold fabric into squares. Retail workers follow me around, refolding everything I touch. Opening my sock drawer is like opening those surprise cans of worms. So I had to laugh when my friend posted this on facebook today. I have not tried it yet. I have not gone to the shelf of oddly misshapen balls of sheets that mocked me as I attempted to show them who is boss. They are the boss of me. Always have been. We have had this agreement, where they get to live carefree on the shelf as long as they don’t tell anyone.
But no more. Watch out Twin sheets, you will be tamed. Queen sheets? Well, I’m not getting ahead of myself. There’s always next year.