My daughter vomited in my bed last night. I stripped the bed, remade it, took the sheets to the laundry room and fell back asleep.
Morning.
Like a magician pulling scarves out of his sleeve and thrusting them into the air, I pull the sheets out of the laundry basket and thrust them into the washer. Like the magician's scarves, the sheets go on and on.
They smell sweet and soured. I didn't throw up last night. I may now.
They are only queen sized, but I know that they could cover the queen, king, and most of the kingdom.
