living with more wrinkles

I can’t pinpoint when it happened but one day I tried prime steak, and then I never bought choice again.  Similarly, one day I had my sheets sent out and loved the feeling of pressed sheets.  I have become a sheet snob.  I look at the sheet’s origin (Egyptian is best), the thread count (the higher the better), is it one ply or two (one is better), long staple or short — who knew there was so much to know about sheets.  But sending them out is expensive ($3.50 a pillow case and $10 per sheet), so it’s a luxury I can no longer afford.  But it's not a luxury I have to give up.  So tonight I wash several sets of sheets and take out my rarely used iron.

I ask for advice first.  M suggests steaming sections first, then ironing.  It’s a good strategy and one that works.  I go online and watch a few YouTube videos of accomplished homemakers.  They make ironing look effortless, almost fun.

I set up my iron in front of the TV and intermittently watch Tom Brady do his thing against the Texans.  Ironing has to be the most exhausting household chore.  And it is definitely not fun.  After five pillowcases, one flat sheet, and one fitted sheet, I give up.  My white cotton duvet cover goes on my bed wrinkled.  I make an attempt to iron it while it is on my bed, with the duvet inside.  I feel ridiculous but it sort of works.

I think I can manage ironing the pillowcases, but not the sheets.   I’ll now be adjusting to more wrinkles, but at least they’re not on my face.