Nice Things

If only you guys could see me now... old 7up boxers, black tank top, bright purple towel on my head, and a cucumber mask drying on my face. I'm quite a sight and suddenly thankful that A doesn't know this isn't "normal". We do our best not to press him to be "normal". It is a concept I don't understand myself as I'm one of those weird creative types that will never, ever be anyone's idea of normal.

But on to the main point of this post...

Sometime in the last year or so my idea of nice things changed radically. Part of this change was brought on by the long search my mother went through to find a new job. I think the other part was I finally just grew up. 

I went from drooling over fancy LCD TV's and Blu-Ray players to browsing websites for socks. (Don't ask. I have a strange fascination with striped socks.) At some point I also got it in my head that what I really wanted was a nice set of sheets. 

Sheets, Renee?

Yeah, sheets. You see, my spankin' new mattress set (thankyouIRS) is my refuge. A climbs in bed with his grandmother in the mornings because her room is closer to his than mine. That means at all times my bed is kid free. So why can't I have a nice set of sheets to enjoy after a long day of taking care of the 6 animals and child? 

The bed itself is a gift from the gods. My old mattress set was a hand-me-down from my sister. She has never, ever been nice to her things. By the time it was my turn to use the set she'd broken loose some of the springs and cracked the frame on the box springs. The entire thing tilted to the side and hurt my already damaged back horribly. Mom took pity on me in March and sacrificed $500 for a new mattress set. 

Right now I'm using a rather comfortable set of plaid flannel sheets. Our city gets really hot in the summer, though. I end up spending most of my time flinging the sheets off the bed than sleeping. Not good considering A gets up bright and early most days.

I hate to bother mom for something as stupid as Nice Sheets. Its more than a temperature thing. Its a vanity thing, a reminder that I'm newly single and can feel sexy again. Even if I'm in bed alone.

At 25, I'm starting to feel like an old maid. Its stupid to think that something as simple as a set of sheets will fix everything, but it'd be a start. Maybe I can sell a story and buy them for myself. That'd be nice.