Farmer H's Reasoning Defies Logic

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's schedule has been a little off this summer, what with The Pony's comings and goings for summer school A+ tutoring/Boys State/Engineering Camp, Farmer H taking off one or two days per week just because he can fritter that 4-week vacation piecemeal, cleaning out Mom's house, and now getting it sold.

Yesterday, I commenced washing the sheets from our boudoir, but got sidetracked as I often do. Did you know that Farmer H has also frittered away the top layer of my grandma's quilt? The quilt she made for my wedding bed? It's only on his side, at the top where one might clutch the edge up under your chin if a wolf walked in and started talking to you as you slumbered. Anyhoo...I wasn't even to the quilt yet. I had tossed in the sheets, mattress cover, and pillowcases. I ran them through twice, because really, it should have been two separate loads, so I didn't save myself any time.

In the midst of this washing spree, I took off to town to get a couple of new pillows, and a blanket. It's July, you know. I don't think a quilt is called for, even one that now has air holes in it. When I got back, I dried that superload for two cycles, then wrestled with that mutant mattress cover for thirty minutes to fit it upon the bed. One would think that they are not shaped like a square, but like a rectangle. One would be wrong.

What I didn't notice was that the pillowcases and my pillow cover had dropped out on the floor of the laundry room at the time of the first drying (who looks down at the floor in the laundry room, anyway), and had been wrapped inside the mattress cover on the second round. So...I tossed them in with the quilt, which would require its own two-cycle drying session.

I kind of lost interest in that chore, and migrated to my dark basement lair for some relaxation time. After supper, I told Farmer H, "Oh, I bought a new blanket since you've destroyed the quilt. And the pillowcases are in the dryer finishing their cycle." Let the record show that I was standing on my side of the bed removing a pillow in its plastic cover, where Farmer H had tossed it for me to sleep on and smothercate myself, after claiming the pillow he wanted. I also pointed out the blanket, over on the dresser.

"That's a hot blanket."

"Sorry. I didn't know you wanted a cold blanket."

"I mean, the quilt I don't think of as a warm blanket."

"THAT'S why I was so cold all winter, and all you would say is, 'I'll warm you up.'"

"Well, I would!"

"That's why I wanted to put my comforter on the bed, but you said the quilt was warm enough."

"Anyway...that's a hot blanket."

"You don't know that! It was $8.88 at The Devil's Playground! It's thin."

"No. It's one of those soft blankets."

"Whatever."

Let the record further show that I was still standing on my side of the bed, way over on the outside wall, by the french doors, where I had my three pillows leaning against my nightstand. Farmer H was on his side, by the door, the light switch, and the clock radio on his own nightstand.

"When those pillowcases are dry, don't worry about mine. Only my pillow cover and main pillowcase are in there. I will put them on. I'm taking my pillow out to the living room. I'll put them on when I come up for bed."

You see, I don't want Farmer H mucking around with my pillows and pillowcases. I already had the other two ready, and left them in the order I stack them. Farmer H has a habit of rooting them around, and in trying to 'help me' gets them all out of whack. Not something I need right now with this crick in my neck. Farmer H agreed not to mess with my pillow and cases. Of course you know what happened.

I came up for bed around 3:00. I would have been there an hour sooner, but I fell asleep in the recliner. I walked through the dark living room and grabbed my pillow. I thought perhaps Farmer H might have put my pillow cover and pillowcase on the back of the couch by it. But no. So I went into the laundry room to get them out of the dryer. But the dryer was barer than Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard. What in the world?

I went to the bedroom and flung on the light. Let Farmer H deal with his consequences. I was hoping for him to startle awake and squint and squirm like a baby mole dug up in the front yard by the Hillbilly hounds. But no. He snoozed on. Under my grandma's quilt, which he had reclaimed from the dryer, to shred into confetti. And there was my pillowcase and pillow cover laying on top of the two ready pillows leaning against my nightstand. Because, you know, when a woman takes her pillow out to the living room and tells you not to touch it because she will dress it herself, the logical thing to do is put her pillowcase and pillow cover IN THE DARK as far away from her pillow as you can.

There will be no warming-up for a while.