Two Types of People

According to Ms. Britney Spears (and I'm paraphrasing here):

There's only two types of people in this world,
The ones that entertain and the ones that observe.

Yeah, that's right, I'm quoting Britney Spears. Deal with it.

Anyways, I quote her as I look into two types of people in my world:

The ones who can fold fitted sheets and the ones who absolutely, positively cannot.

Betcha can't guess which one I am...

I know people who can fold fitted sheets. A girl I used to live with, in the pre-marriage/baby world, could fold fitted sheets like nobody's business. Not only could she fold the damn things, but somehow she knew this magical way to fold them, the other sheet and her pillow cases AND THEN managed to fit all of those articles into a single pillow case. It was an amazing feat. I watched her do it over and over. I was fascinated by this feat. I made several attempts of my own, but could never make it happen. I ended up just handing her my bedding and asking (ok, demanding) that she make the magic happen with my stuff too.

I was over at another girlfriend's house the other night, the same night as my attempted shopping nightmare. She, too, can fold a fitted sheet. Not only can she fold a fitted sheet, but she can do it while 4 kids run screaming around her playroom. Doesn't faze her a bit.

I honestly believe one's ability to fold a fitted sheet in a proper manner is akin to a real live miracle.

I cannot, for the life of me, fold a fitted sheet. I've made many valiant attempts over the years. I still make the ocassional attempt, like every 5 washings or so. I simply can't do it. I try to make the folds into a square, but the folds never stay where I want them. I try laying the sheet out on the floor. I try to line things up in straight lines. However hard I try, I simply end up rolling the sheet into a ball and shoving it into my cupboard. It's too frustrating for words.

But I wonder, what does it mean that I can't fold a fitted sheet? If it were 1950-ish, I'm sure I would be blackballed somehow. This would be my dirty little secret and heaven forbid the neighborhood gals find out about it. If it were the 60s, I could attribute my wrinkled sheets to all the "free love" going down in my boudoir. The 70s - I'd be busy making my way in the career world with no time for such trivialities as folding sheets.

But here it is, 2009 and I really have no reason other than utter lack of patience as my reason for being unable to fold a fitted sheet. I'm an intelligent person...I'm perfectly capable of following directions and paying attention to details. But the fitted sheet has beat me and beat me but good. I bow to its prowess and admit defeat.

Now, I wonder if Ms. Spears can fold a fitted sheet...