Robots and Dinosaurs

I'm 24 years old. In a little over a month that will change. Last week a travesty occurred. I was getting into bed when I noticed a tear and a growing hole in my sheet. Now I don't believe in top sheets, so we're just talking about the fitted sheet. Flannel sheets, so not some piddly cotton sheet. Flannel sheets I've had for, well shoot, probably two years? It's encouraging to a degree, because now I know that when I am sleeping, rare as that is, I'm a power-sleeper. I'm a destroyer of sheets with nothing more than my snoozing body!

"Then why is it a travesty?" You're asking. Well, these weren't just flannel sheets. They were flannel robot sheets. Vaguely like this rug. Well exactly like this rug, only sheets, and on a lighter blue.

And I know as an adult I should learn to have sheets for adults, but I'm single. I don't have a roommate. I have a twin bed. So losing the robot sheets was a real blow to my sense of security.

So Saturday afternoon my mom and I went to anywhere we could think of. I had already conquered the internet shopping experience. Marshalls (where I originally purchased the sheets), T.J. Maxx, Target, Macy's, Penneys, Bed Bath and Beyond, Gordmans. We started at Target and ended at Target. I reluctantly went back into the store and bought white sheets with dinosaurs on them. Cotton sheets. Not flannel to better keep me warm in the apartment I refuse to heat. Cotton. Not robots. Dinosaurs. Don't get me wrong. I love me some dinosaurs. Jurassic Park is in my top 10. But they aren't my robots.

Plus! They mix dinosaurs with dino bones. Well, dino skulls. Which I feel is just cruel to the dinosaurs.

"Behold your future," said the sheet to itself.