No, not my face. Please. I’m insulted you even thought that. And, no, not shirts. I used to be a major tuck it in girl, until I had kids and that baby bump never left.
No, I’m talking about sheets.
Last night, I got into bed and the top sheet was untucked. I was alone, but I said aloud, “Eww!” You would have thought there were mice in my bed as quickly as I threw off the covers and jumped out of bed! Unlike George Costanza, I hate not having the sheets tucked in, no question about it.
I know there are people out there who don’t even use top sheets. I’ve stayed in their homes. I can live with that. But, there is just something about feeling that top sheet creeping up my legs that drives me nuts! (Since I’m bipolar, I can say that about myself. You just can’t say it. Sorry. One of the few benefits I have. Live with it.)
As I laid in bed, after the re-tucking, I breathed a sigh of contentment. Then, I wondered. Who else cares that much about tucked or not tucked sheets? My husband sure doesn’t. He just wants to be warm. Not picky at all. Everyone has their quirks. I probably have more than most. (Yes, you can say that about me. That’s just weird, not crazy.)
Maybe I should just sleep in a sleeping bag. No question. I’d be all tucked in every night.