One More Thing

I discovered one more thing I am not good at.  More like incapable of doing.  This particular task lands somewhere between changing the transmission in a truck and opening a new pack of napkins—two other tasks at which I flounder.

Here it is: I cannot fold sheets.

Yesterday, while that girl left me here unsupervised at the house, I pulled out some bed sheets she had in the dryer and tried to fold them.

I first tried to fold them against the sofa in the living room.

Not good.

For a time one of the throw pillows threw itself into the bedding as I worked.   After I ejected the pillow I folded down again and ended up with what looked more like a crumpled wad.

Not enough room on the sofa, I determined.

I then dragged the sheets back to the spare bedroom and slung them across the bed as first step to the folding process.  At this point, in fairness, I would like to note that we have a California king.  These are some pretty big sheets.

Once again, I tried folding halves into halves.  No soap.  Stray ends and crooked lines appeared everywhere. 

I unfurled the sheets and tried again.  And again.

When that girl came home, I said to her (after our usual greeting pleasantries), “We have a problem.  Well, I do.  Follow me to the bedroom.” 

Together, we walked back to the bedroom.  Once there, I pointed at an ugly pile of sheets.  “I gave my best to fold them.  I can’t do it.  I’m guessing I have some kind of genetic shortfall here.”

She laughed.  “Thank you for trying,” she said.  “I will take care of them.”

--Mitchell Hegman