Changing My Bed Sheet

Seven days have passed and it's time to change my bed sheet again:

Step One: 

I shared a bed with my mom and dad when I was seven years old. My mom would use square sheets to cover the mattress - whose metal springs protrude and prick my skin. Not only was it horrid to lie on, (because the bed cover had a low thread count and was itchy to touch) every time it gets creased, we had to get out of bed to straighten it again.  

Step Two:

That's because my mom and I used to straighten the sheets just before going to sleep. Forget that our room was cluttered with books. As long as the bed is neat - and clean, I can expect an express trip to dreamland. It so happened that my dad had decided to sleep in the same bed again after my sister was born, and apparently, enjoyed crumpling the bed cloth with his feet instead of covering them with a blanket.

Step Three:

Many years later, the habit prevailed and I would obsess about the smallest details that make up my slumber rituals: 

A neat and spotlessly clean bed is the essence of my personal hygiene. Going into my bed with my work or gimik clothes is out of the question. Bedding include a soft thin blanket, four pillows which I use for my feet (a hard pillow that is three decades old), head (2 average-sized soft pillows) and a fluffy replacement when JC is not around (the cuddly Mr. Pillow) I sleep with my head opposite the headboard. (a force of habit from the time I slept on a mattress laid on the floor) and I am most at ease when the wind from the electric fan blows on my feet.

Step Four:

The weekly habit would have gone unnoticed if I didn't overhear my two barbarian agents brag about how filthy their bed sheets were.

"Basta lalaki, walang palitan ng kubre kama." Said one, a short, portly guy seated two work stations away from me.

"Honga, kung hindi masikmura ni misis, edi siya ang magpalit." Affirmed another.

"Naalala ko pre, pag angat ko nung unan, iba yung kulay ng parteng hinihigaan sa tinatabunan." Both of them laughed. 

I didn't say a word. Not even the tiniest wince at how they neglect their places of slumber. But if one wants to see a soft spot somewhere within my brutish exterior. One look at the corner where I lie and sleep, and it's a give-away...

linen spray: new addition to my bedtime rituals