And Never The Twain Shall Meet

Some people lead more normal lives than others. I know, normal is relative and you never really know what challenges and stresses other people deal with and such, but, let’s face it, we all know the unspoken benchmarks and how we measure up to them. Or not. It’s been my contention for a long time that there are really only two striations of people in American society: those who can’t imagine sleeping in a bed with sheets that don’t match and all the rest of us. Not only are these categories pretty all-encompassing and descriptive, their boundaries are fairly rigid--sheet-matchers rarely end up socially or romantically linked to at-least-there-are-sheeters. It just isn’t done. Oh, sure, there are the occasional sheet-crossed lovers, but they are usually doomed. If you know the thread count of your bedding (or even know what thread count means) you’ll never be happy with someone who has slept on top of the comforter because the sheets are still in the dryer. Some differences are just too profound. I bring this up because I couldn’t help noting that Eloise Wilkin’s My Goodnight Book is a precious, heart-warming little tale about a matched-sheet family in a matched-sheet house. When it’s time for bed, the little girl in the story goes upstairs (without a tantrum) to brush her teeth (with a toothbrush that perfectly matches the perfectly matched soap dish and cup) and take a bath (in a bathroom that has a footstool…with a ruffled cover). Who are these people?!

http://www.amazon.com/Goodnight-Book-Golden-Sturdy-Shape/dp/0307122581


http://www.randomhouse.com/author/results.pperl?authorid=33195