26 February 2013

Loving button buttons - aspirations of the not rich

You know that moment when you decide to go to bed and remember you stripped the bed earlier in the day and haven't yet made it up again?  When you are bleary eyed and wonder if not doing it would make you the worst person in the world?  And then you wonder whether or not that is the first step on a very slippery slope to abandoning the trappings of civilised surbubanity?  So you haul some sheets and a duvet cover from the pile of washing you still haven't put away and proceed to make the bed.  Just as you get the duvet into the cover, you realise - you've picked the duvet cover with buttons.

Yep - button buttons with button holes
And you want to scream.  In the same way you had wanted to scream when you were taking the stupid thing off the bed in a hurry and realised it had buttons.

Yep. Button buttons.

There is something about button buttons on bed linen which says "I need hired help".  Basically, buttons that clip together jauntily or even just zippers are quicker, much easier and you NEVER get all the way to the end and realise you've been one out the whole way along.  And button buttons are always a tight fit so it's fiddly and annoying and takes away all the pleasure of your lovely heavily threaded duvet cover.

Basically, some things should only become part of your life if you can afford to have somebody else take care of them.

Like button buttons on duvet covers.

And pigs as pets.  Sure George Clooney has one but I bet he's not responsible for looking after it.  He gets all the joy and none of the distress.  Much like rich people who have other people make their beds.  They get to appreciate the fine lines and classy looks of a duvet cover with button buttons because they have none of the exasperation that goes with changing it.

And smoothies.  Smoothies are delicious but always yummier and more satisfying when you haven't had to cut the fruit, beat the fruit, measure the dashes, extract the grasses and whatever else.  If I could afford to hire somebody to make me a smoothie every morning, I'd also be able to afford somebody to make my bed.

I definitely wouldn't to have to choose between the two, so I'll have to be mega wealthy.

What are some of the small, less obvious things which make you wish you "had staff" on occasion?

1 comment:

  1. Ugh. I want staff who wipe up the wee splashes from the floor of the loo that my toddler leaves. So sick of it. I've got a doona cover like that. Bane of my existence.