The Sheet got the Crunchies
You know, I am a huge fan of leaves. I love when they are on the trees and blowing in the wind and I love when they are turning all different shades of colors. But most of all, I like when they are dead. As morbid as that just came out, I mean it. I am one of those weird people who walk zigzagging on the street to make sure that each foot steps on a crunchy leaf. Yup. Just like when you were a kid and needed to step from line to line on the sidewalk.
Now although that sound is quite fabulous, the dead pine-cone takes the cake. If I had to be carried all the time until there was a pine-cone in sight, I would. Ahh. That smashing, crunching, crisp, cracking sound. It really takes me to a special place. I dream of a bed of dry leaves…
Then, running only slightly behind those, are my other two favorites. The sound when you glide your ice skate into a T-stop. That scraping-the-ice sound as you come to a complete halt. Truly a remarkable sound. Then, last but not least, one I try to create every day. The sizzling pop of freshly cut onions thrown into a skillet of hot butter. What can be better.
However, as exceptional as the sound may be, I was not prepared for it this morning. I was forced to change the linen in the childrens’ bedroom. By forced I mean that my four-year-old informed me that the linen needed to be changed. How many options did I have then. So I pulled out some sheets from the closet and I really must have not changed the linen in decades. I tried to slip the corners onto the mattress but I could not concentrate above the crunching. My sheets got the crunchies. The elastic was so far gone that it crackled and popped till it turned into a flat sheet.
So now my one skill that was giving me hope in the world was dented. Great. I don’t change the linen enough. What kind of mom leaves the linen deteriorating in the closet. Shame.
Now that sound, I did not like at all. My sheets are no longer fitted and they think that the winter has arrived and they must spread their wings. I must set them free. It’s what I must do to compensate for all the time I cooped them up on the shelf.
Another talent bites the dust.