You may think we Americans don't have problems, compared to the rest of the world, but I can prove you wrong. Just check out this article in the Washington Post. Look at how we are suffering.
You didn't click, did you? Okay, I'll tell you - it's titled "Cheat Sheets?"
Fuzzy Industry Standards Leave Consumers Lost In the Thread Counts"It's just gotten ridiculous," said one local shopper, Susan Van Hemel of Fairfax. "It's become so hard to figure out what to buy. And sheets now are so expensive, you can make a costly mistake."
Honey, I can help you. Go to Target. Pick up a queen-size set of sheets for 30 bucks. It's that easy. Really. If the extra money you would have spent is burning a hole in your pocket, send it to me. Or maybe send it to an organization that is helping cyclone victims in Myanmar, or earthquake victims in China.
And if your new sheets don't seem comfy enough, get more tired before you go to bed, okay?
Sheesh - talk about having too many choices and too much money to spend on them.
And, then, in the "how much can we show off that children haven't changed our lives?" category, we have this handy-dandy article on how to take your infant backpacking. Real backcountry backpacking. Because that's what I like to do: strap an infant on my chest, put a 30-pound pack on my back, and head for the woods.
You know, the only reason I would be heading for the woods would be to get away from the crying baby, not to take him with me.
Look at the picture that accompanies this article (I can't upload it - aaargh!) and tell me: just what is this woman trying to prove? Maybe it's a first-baby thing - you know, you're anxious to prove that babies haven't changed your life one bit; you're still a normal person even though you change poopy diapers and catch spit-up food in your hands.
Me, I've got nothing to prove. And my inordinate fondness for indoor plumbing would prevent my ever even entertaining the idea of doing this. What? Life isn't challenging enough with a baby at home, you need to take him on the trail? Good grief.
That's all tonight, folks. I'd like to get to bed before midnight for once. And we've got 9 tons of stone dust to move tomorrow. We try to save this sort of work for when the temperature is above 90 degrees - that way we can sweat out all our toxins while we shovel.
Multi-tasking is the way to go.
[I can't fix the orange mess up there. I tried.]