Lately I’ve been inundated with the mad, crazy information that millennials no longer use top sheets. Oh, the horror! No top sheet? GROSS!!!
My millennial son informs me that no, there is no need, as they all use duvets with covers. The covers then zip off, get tossed in the wash, and back on they go. No need for a top sheet. Clean and easy.
I can’t fathom not having that tucked in top sheet, but decided for my Air BnB guests, I would use a top sheet, but also get a duvet cover so as to guarantee no skin cells but their own will ever touch their skin.
Yesterday my first Amazon ordered duet cover arrived. So I dragged it upstairs, on the road to becoming the cleanest Air BnB this side of the Mississippi.
20 minutes later and I don’t care. I don’t care if it’s clean or dirty. I don’t care if nobody wants to book my rooms. I just don’t care. Here’s the process I went through, from “I’m excited to have a crisp and clean bedroom for guests,” to “I really don’t give a shit.”
- Find the zipper. I’m not being stupid. Literally I laid out the cover and rotated it over and over and over again. No zipper. Went downstairs to find the packaging to be sure I didn’t just get two queen sheet that were sewed together. Nope. It said clearly “City Lights Comforter Cover.” Finally, looking closely at each corner, I found the zipper tucked away in a seam.
- Unzip. Carefully. Every few inches it gets caught up in all that material. So the process is slow, and if you have the patience and attention span that I do, you’ll end up swearing and jiggling the zipper until you are this close to yanking it so hard you’ll rip the whole damn thing.
- Lay out your comforter and start stuffing. This is the part that set me over the edge. It sounds so easy. 15 minutes later I’m still shoving. This is the thing – it doesn’t just lay flat. It doesn’t fit nicely in the cover. It bunches. It bunches up a lot. I started on one side, got the bottom edge nice and smooth, worked my way up to the top and smoothed that out. Then I went to put the other bottom side down, only to discover the other bottom that was smooth, was bunched up and turned under. And I have to tell you, My arms do not reach far enough down on a queen sized duvet to pull it flat. I had to basically crawl on top of the bed, shake the duvet and crawl partway into it to unbunch the edge. All the while threatening to beat the comforter to a bloody pulp.
This went on for 20 minutes. Unbunching, cussing, unbunching. The corners would not lay flat. Not now, not ever. But in 20 minutes I did manager to get all of the comforter into the cover. And if I punched the bunchy bits REALLY HARD and slapped it around a bit (for my own benefit) they seemed to flatten out.
4. Go downstairs, pour a glass of wine, contemplate your achievements, glare at the elliptical and think murderous thoughts about your son, who talked you into the whole comforter cover thing. And ignore the one in the king bedroom until more wine is consumed.
I’m in an Air BnB host forum. European Air BnB owners never use topsheets. They use duvet covers. American Air BnB owners use top sheets AND duvet covers. “Oh yes,” they said on the forum. “And we launder them with every check out.
My son also said he launders his with the rest of his bedding. And I have this to say …
LIARS. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. OF. YOU
Because there is no way in HELL that you are all washing these damn things every day or two. Because like me, Air BnB owners typically get a lot of one and two night stays. And I cannot believe that they battle the stuffing process every day or two. No way. No how.
So here’s what I think. Millennials are either dirty, or dirty liars. Plus, here’s my Baby Boomer philosophy. Want clean? Buy a second top sheet. There are three benefits. 1. It’s cheaper to buy another top sheet than buy a duvet cover. 2. Just as clean – one top sheet on the skin side, lay the comforter on top of the first top sheet, and top with the second top sheet. Done. and 3. There is no fighting. No cussing, No battling the cover, no stuffing, no zipping, no cussing, no punching or slapping.
“Susan. You insisted we needed to buy comforter covers. You’ve already laundered them and used them. We can’t return them, so we’re stuck with them. But i’ll help.” That’s Brad. My husband. Thinking that him climbing on the bed with me as I’m shrieking will help to heal all wounds. And make the whole process easy. Silly Man. He really doesn’t know me at all.