Around the holidays it seems that everyone is telling a story; whether it’s about that crazy relative who sends out a brag letter every year about their child being the smartest, most talented child on the planet, who is certain to become the next President of the United States, the new boy that your cousin brought to Thanksgiving dinner, or a holiday tradition that you are looking forward to at your next gathering, regardless of the message-this time of year…everyone has a story.
In keeping with that tradition, I’d like to share the Wicked Sheets story to kick off the first addition to my blog..as it too, began at a “traditional” family gathering. As we sat around the table at Easter, at my Aunt’s house, we began to discuss our proudest Truttmann bodily functions. What? Doesn’t every family discuss what traits they have inherited with pride? ? Some people inherit blue eyes, long blonde hair, great legs, etc. But if you’ve heard this story before, you know that I’m talking about night sweats. That’s right, my family has the unique ability to produce, and over-produce sweat. From our hands, our feet, our pits, you name it…we’re sweating from it.
My pregnant cousin, Cori, was in her 2nd trimester of her first preganacy and experiencing night sweats. Knowing that she and I share a lot of similarities from the Truttmann gene pool, and that I had been diagnosed with idiopathic hyperhidrosis when I was younger (excessive sweat production with no specific medical cause), she asked what I did to cope with the bothersome effects of night sweats. At first I responded honestly and told her there wasn’t any more to do than change your pjs or sheets everyday, so that you have that sense of cleanliness. But at that moment, I looked over at her husband who was wearing an Under Armour golf polo, and jokingly said, “Or we could just cut up all of Jason’s expensive golf shirts and sew them into bedsheets??” The typical Truttmann response followed shortly thereafter, “Oh Alli, that’s silly. Only you would think of that.” I looked at my dad, he promptly reinforced exactly what I was thinking…”Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”
I spent the next 4.5 hours in my car in silence driving back to Louisville. When I reached my house, I looked down and had an entire notebook filled with ideas on how I was going to take over the bedding world with MY sheets, Wicked Sheets. The ideas and possibilities were endless: pregnant women, menopausal women, post-traumatic stress disorder, cancer-fighters, and people just like ME with idopathic hyperhidrosis. Finally, a “coping-mechanism” that would help me sleep better and stay dry like the rest of humanity. Maybe that would score me a boyfriend too! ?
Six months later, I laid down on my first ever set of Wicked Sheets. And I tell you what…I haven’t slept in anything different ever since. Now that’s one story that I hope is told for many, many years to come at my future holiday gatherings!
Until next time, sleep wicked friends! – Alli