I have cold feet.
Not cold feet as in having second thoughts but cold feet. Literally.
Years ago, when we were first married, we had an electric blanket. I loved that blanket.
To my memory, it wasn’t in the best condition (which leads me to believe I probably pilfered it from my parent’s house).
Every evening, through out the winter, I’d turn that baby on 20 minutes or so before I came to bed and voila! Everything was nice and toasty.
We never slept with it on. Only used it to warm up the bed before we went to sleep. It was heavenly.
Due to it’s questionable age, and subsequent fear of fire, my electric blanket’s days were numbered.
That was my one and only electric blanket.
Through 31 years of marriage. Gasp! I know! 31 years? I can’t believe it either.
Until last week.
Prior to this most recent purchase, flannel sheets have been my alternative.
Every year when I pull out the flannel sheets…and I do mean EVERY year…Scott starts his yearly monologue on “The Hatred of Flannel Sheets”.
He can’t turn over. They grab the hairs on his legs. And twist them. And snarl them.
They’re too hot. He can’t sleep. He can’t breathe.
“Have I told you how much I hate flannel sheets?” he asks.
I don’t know why he’s complaining. It’s better than me wearing flannel.
Every year I listen sweetly and say “you poor thing” and proceed with my flannel sheets.
Last week, while shopping with my youngest, I was drawn to the electric blanket display.
“Oh, how I wish we had another electric blanket. But I just can’t justify the cost of the Queen Size. Wish they were all the price of the Twin.”
My youngest…with 16 year old sheer brilliance…said to me “Just buy the twin.”
Well. Duh. Why not?
Twin Electric Blanket = 62″ wide vs Queen Mattress = 60″ wide
Twin blanket = less than 1/2 the price of Queen Blanket
Scott won’t use it on his side of the bed anyway, so…
I bought the twin.
Normally, this kind of thing would drive me nuts. I can’t put a twin blanket on a queen bed! But in this case it was the perfect solution!
Scott’s happy. We’re not using the flannel sheets. Yet.
I’m happy. My icy little piggies are warm and toasty.