Taylor the Teacher

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I put the sheets in the washer before work. Husband promised to put them in dryer. He forgot. No big deal, still plenty of time for them to dry before bed. So we rotated sheets, went to bank, and then picked up food, Greek. We have to pick up food rather than cook it because there’s a damn mouse in my kitchen. I haven’t grocery shopped in weeks — ever since that bugger came in to get warm.

Eating out of Styrofoam boxes is one thing, but plastic forks suck. So I went to the kitchen (where the forks, washer, and dryer are) and there was a water sound. But only the dryer was on. And honestly, the Greek food was getting cold, so if it weren’t for the hardwood floors I would have ignored it.

Due to my shocking ignorance of all things adult and responsible, I had never heard in my life of that silver hose behind the dryer getting full of water. Had to call dad and ask what to do. Then had to do many unpleasant things with tools, towels, and buckets. And then had to wash all the lint out of that hose, but it was too dark and cold to go outside, so I rinsed it in the tub. So then had to de-clog, and then clean, the tub. And then that tube had to dry.

The sheets were wet. I’ve never bought a second set of sheets since we got our new bed. We’ve had the bed for a year now.

So, we had to wait for the neighbor to get home to dry the sheets. Seemed like forever. It was cold, and I really wanted my bed. But the sheets came up the stairs nice and warm.

Ordinarily when the cat is on the bed and I need to change the sheets I’ll spatula him like a pancake and put him gently somewhere else. He’s just that cool of a cat. But this time, he just needed to move. Those sheets were still warm.

So I shooed him, and he was on his feet. He expressed his disgust at this by parking himself in the middle of the bare mattress. I told him to move, and proceeded to put the corners on the first layer of sheets. He knew what I meant. He tried to act like he didn’t.

So I moved around the bed at the four corners anyway, and he eventually had to move. But before he left the bed he gave me a look-back that said, “You crazy bitch, why are you up in my business?”

And I said, “Don’t pull that with me. You knew what I was saying.”

For a second it was like being at work. Who but a teenager deliberately does something for the express purpose of being a pain in the ass, and then turns it on you for doing exactly as you said you would do, quite reasonably.

But I probably just think about work too much. Either way, the evening taken as a whole is probably a good reason I should never reproduce.