I used to wonder why my wife would take the time and trouble to iron pillow cases and sheets. Sure, they looked nice when folded in the closet and when first put on the bed. But in two seconds, they would be wrinkled again, and no one would know. But yesterday, I bought a new mattress and today it is being delivered, so I had to strip my old bed to get ready for the new one. Well. I might as well wash my sheets. I tried to use the wrinkle free setting on the dryer which seemed to work pretty well the last time I used it, but no so much this time. The sheets were pretty wrinkly. Not good. I decided it was time that maybe I ironed the sheets. As I did, several thoughts occurred to me. First of all, this was my wife’s “rice bowl” as it were. She had a very creased, tailored, button-down personality, and this was her way of expressing herself. It was her job to make sure that I left the house neat and sharp looking, and the household had to be the same. The second notion was that this was somewhat therapeutic, sort of like mowing the lawn. A sheet is a large expanse of fabric, but it is flat for the most part—contour sheets a little different—and pretty easy to do, unlike shirts which require more skill. I also found it to be very womanly and felt more feminine doing it for some reason. I enjoyed that. This is another step in my progression to live the last years of my life in an increasingly feminine fashion.