Three Bags o’ Bread


Dear Diary …

Every night of my life, I’m in a battle. So basically this is a non-stop war … Me vs. the sheet on my bed. Every single night when I go to bed, that sheet is where it’s supposed to be. And every single morning when I wake up, the stinkin’ corner of the sheet has been ripped out of the bed and my toes are sticking out. Every night!

It doesn’t matter how hard I yank that sheet and how deeply I stuff it down into that corner, that stupid thing is flappin’ all around come morning. And you would think it’s not that big a deal .. it’s fine if your toes are just touching blanket instead of sheet. But no … it’s not fine! It’s not fine on any level!!

I don’t know why it’s a big deal, but it just feels all weird and wrong on my feet and I’m not as comfortable if I have blanket toe instead of sheet toe.

What happens every single night to cause this? Am I flopping around the bed like some sort of fish out of water? Or is there a more devious plan at hand … some sort of sheet conspiracy between my bed and this evil evil sheet?

As you can imagine … I’m going with the conspiracy, cuz that’s way less my fault and way more me blaming the sinister forces of the evil sheet and it’s catastrophic plan to ruin my night’s sleep.

I don’t really have anything else to add … and I have no solutions to the problem either … so I’m just here complaining about it. What the heck goes on with our bodies in the middle of the night, and why are they so stupid and uncooperative?

OK … moving on Diary …

Speaking of wars … I’m in another one in my house … this time with the family. Yeah … as you can see I got a lot of battles going on, but that’s the price you pay when you’re doing it right and everybody else is doing it wrong.

And in this situation, I know without a shadow of a doubt, I’m in the right and everybody else is doing it wrong.

The rule at hand is simple … If you open a package of something … let’s say a loaf of bread. You eat that loaf of bread until it’s gone, then you start on a new package of bread. Right?

Well apparently not in my house, because right now I’m starting at THREE different loaves of bread. All the same brand … all the same kind … and all three of them are open. This is not how this is supposed to work!!!

My kids in particular drive me crazy with this. Every single time I bring a new package of something into the house, they wanna immediately open it before the current package is empty.

“Daddy I want the new milk.”

Absolutely not! This other milk is like two days old. It’s not as if I’m asking you to drink month old milk. You finish the open one first, then you move on!

But guess who listens to me? Yup … nobody.

Nobody listens. They never do. Sigh.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye