An American in Britain says there is "no duv-ate" about it.

We wrestle and tug for more control over it, that is, Mr. Chill and I. We’re in an eight-hour nocturnal struggle over duvet possession–an endless battle that every couple in Britain must experience these chilly eves  in bed.

“We’re not going to turn up the heat”, I say,“For goodness sake, darlin’, its the bloomin’ credit crunch! Oh, and you’re hogging the duvet again!”

It is only my £19.99 -twelve- toggle- Woolworth’s-duvet that is my shield against the December elements in my Damp Victorian Terrace Flat (and now, this important item might even be a collector’s item now that Woolie’s has gone under!)

Growing up for  20 odd years of  sheets surrounding me in a cozy wrap, I never had heard of a “Duvet” until I moved to Britain almost 10 years ago. Well, had you? And the thing about going back home to America these days are those silly, odd sheets.That bedding system feels claustrophobic to me. They bind my feet, crunch my toes and make me sweat. When you have been living in England for so long you realize how its the little things that make you more British. Like using Duvet covers, for example.

There is no “duv-ate” about it, because duvet covers just make sense to me.

No related posts.

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.