You haven’t been this excited in months. You went on a few amazing dates with this hot ass dude from Tinder, and since he slept over at your place last time, it was finally time to see his place.
You arrive—it’s not too bad so far. Yeah, some beat up IKEA furniture and an ash tray on the coffee table, but hey, he’s a guy. You begin making out. It gets hot and heavy and he leads you into his bedroom.
Oof. It’s such a guy room. Somehow no lampshade and clothes scattered on the floor? Your eyes roll into the back of your head. If you’re going to continue this, you’re going to have to step in and make some serious changes.
The sex is pretty great, and it’s time for bed. He pulls back the comforter, and voila, no top sheet. What is it with men and just never…fully completing anything? Yes, I may be a diva bitch extraordinaire for saying this, but I like my bed fully made.
You go to sleep with just a tinge of resentment hanging over your head.
“It’s okay,” you convince yourself. “He’s such a good lay and has a great sense of humor, it shouldn’t matter.”
But you wake up the next morning, do the walk of shame home, and call your Mom. You tell her you met this great guy…but…plot twist: he lacks some adult tendencies.
“It’s okay,” she says calmly. “I’ve dated plenty of men in my time, and not one, not even your father, has had a top sheet. It’s time you knew.”
A moment of acceptance. If your Mom says it’s a thing, it’s a thing. Maybe you’ll learn to embrace it over time. I mean…he does love to give (ya know, in bed), and he’s 6’3. You’ll cope.
Image: New York Magazine