The Bane of My Existence. . .

Is a duvet cover. Yeah, you heard me.

A shiny, ridiculously expensive, pretty Italian duvet cover- the kind of thing you buy when you’re single, childless, and free from pets.

The kind of thing that loses its closure buttons when puppies wrestle on it, allowing them to then wrestle inside it.

While the down comforter inside slides sadly down, down, down, despite the clips that were supposed to hold it in place and change my life. Those clips are no match for puggles.

That’s it in the middle there. The down comforter. The snaky lump now cutting diagonally across the bed. Prolapsing out the end.

It takes somewhere in the neighborhood of forty-five minutes to reorient the comforter inside the cover. It’s slippery. It’s askew. Those puppies, they think it’s a game. They pounce on the lumps. They try to crawl back inside.

I’m pretty sure they ate the clips.


Comment. It gives me a reason not to clean my house.

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