Nina Lewis

Last week, my husband came down with a cold.  The first night, he used all of the NyQuil. The next day, I ran a few errands and said that I would pick more up for him.

At the grocery store, I wandered the isle looking for some.

When I found it, I noticed there was cherry flavored NyQuil on the shelf below. In my humble opinion, cherry-flavored anything is good. Especially when it comes to medicine.  So, I bought it.

When my husband took it that night at bedtime, he pointed out that I had gotten Children’s NyQuil.  Oops.

He used it anyway.

The last several days, he has left it out on our bathroom countertop. Out of boredom while I was brushing my teeth last night, I read the label. Now, mind you, this is NyQuil for children.

The label said not to take the medicine if you had glaucoma, emphysema, an enlarged prostrate gland, or were taking a certain medicine for Parkinson’s disease.

I daresay that very few children experience those problems . . .

Change.

For a dollar.

What message do you get from this 10 minute video?

Boy howdy.  I thought it was awful to be consumed with thoughts about spider brains. That was nothing, folks. Miniscule amount of thought power compared to what I’m thinking about at 3:00 a.m. — and 9:00 a.m, 8:00 p.m. 5:30 p.m. — at all times of the day and night. Heaven’s to Betsy, when will this thinking deluge stop?

So what am I thinking about now?  World peace?  World hunger?  The fate of old lunch baggies left in my desk drawer over the weekend?  (Ewww!  I NEVER want to think about that!)

Cotton balls.  That’s right.  Cotton balls.  Can’t get them outta my head.

A while back, I purchased a bag o’ balls. You know, for removing eye makeup.

I did a grab-N-dash-to-the-cash-register kind of thing.  Didn’t pay too much attention to the balls.  When I got home, low and behold, they were so huge that I could have used them as batting for 21 king-sized quilts.  With some left to spare.

Well, recently, I used the last cotton ball.  I needed some more.

Again, I did the grab-N-dash-to-the-cash-register thing.  I paused long enough to ensure those balls were not gargantuan.  They weren’t so I went on my merry way.

That night when I opened them up, dismay!  They were so teeny that I needed a high-powered magnifying glass to even see them.  I would need half of the bag to remove the makeup from just one eye. (And no — you smart aleck — it’s not because I wear tons of makeup!)

By tearing in half the balls from the first bag, the bag lasted a rather long time.  Rather.  But this bag, THIS BAG, will not last very long when I have to use 83 of them at one time.

There are 150 of those teeny suckers in the bag.  By my way of doing math, it will last me two nights worth of makeup removal.

Have you learned something from all of this? my husband asks.

Definitely, I reply. I’m going to stop wearing eye makeup…

A couple of years ago I purchased some sheets at Sam’s Club.  The thread count was 400. Such elegance.  When I climbed into bed and closed my eyes, I could imagine that I was staying at the Ritz Carlton.  That’s how luxurious they felt.

I loved those sheets.

Sad to say, those sheets are threadbare. So bare, in fact, that there is a big, gaping hole in the fitted sheet.  Guess it’s time to replace them.

I saw some newspaper ads for sheets that were originally $180.  Can you believe that!?!  Never in the world would I ever pay that much for sheets!  Ever.

Shopko had a sale on their sheets.  The thread count was only 250.  But, the package said they were satin finished sheets.   I didn’t want to drive all the way over to Sam’s Club to see if they still had the same kind of sheets.

So what if the Shopko sheets didn’t have the same thread count as the ones needing to be replaced?  They were supposed to be satin sheets.  Right?  Besides, I used to get only 200 thread count sheets.

What the heck. I bought them.  Live on the dangerous side of life, eh?

I have silky jammies.  So easy to do all of my tossing and turning in.  Some nights with the 400 thread count sheet, I had quite high RPMs.  But not with these new sheets.

How do you say velcro??

I think the sheet manufacturer’s definition of satin finish means ‘our sheets have more sticking power than cockleburs.’  Satin finish, indeed.

I can’t toss.  I can’t turn.  Once I have climbed into bed, that is the position that I stay in all night whether I want to or not.  It’s like I’m super-glued to the sheet.  It takes Herculean effort to just climb out of bed in the morning — and that has absolutely nothing to do with lack of desire to get up.

Anybody want a set of queen-sized 250 thread count sheets that are only slightly used?  They are yours.  Free.