Pillow Talk

I got spoiled. Due to Critter’s sleeping habits and my desperate need to HAVE sleeping habits, Bonehead got bumped to the bed in the spare room upstairs while Critter claimed his Dad’s spot next to me. It wasn’t a long term arrangement and only lasted between 2-3 weeks until I got Critter on more of a ‘sleep through the night (mostly) schedule.’

Last Friday, with the arrival of Bonehead’s friend for the weekend and my own Mother’s visit with us through the holidays, Bonehead and Critter had to both go back to their actual beds. Critter has been doing awesome. He wakes up once a night. I roll him over, give him ‘Woofie” to snuggle with, cover him back up, and that’s the end of Critter for the night.

However, I didn’t realize how spoiled I was with a 13 pound infant next to me as opposed to Bonehead. In the span of 3 nights I have gone from mildly annoyed to wanting to plant my feet on the horizontal figure of my husband and push for all I’m worth. That’s a pretty mean thought to have for the beloved husband I’ve shared a bed with for 14 plus years. What would bring me to such drastic measures?

Pillows.

My husband has a fetish for pillows. To him, they are like shoes on a woman’s mind. He can never have enough. Two body pillows. Three big pillows. A couple of smaller pillows if he can find them. And sometimes my pillows too. Sometimes I think he sits at work and daydreams about pillows. Because when he comes home sometimes, to unwind, he walks straight to our bed, moves my pillows out of their strict formation and mashes them beyond belief, twists them like soft pretzels, and sprawls like a chalk line profile. It takes me days to get my pillows back where they should be- just enough time for him to do it again.

I keep waking up at night and wondering why I’m half off the bed, and my pillows are half off with me. It’s the pillow push. The man has so many pillows he sleeps against the other edge of the bed and then pushes them ALL MY WAY. My pillows are sliding off the bed because his are attacking them. I wake up choking on a stormy sea of fluff.

At one point in our marriage, he was losing his pillows to the space between our headboard and wall. I got an almost nightly wake up from the ‘flump’ my head made as it hit the mattress when MY pillow was yanked out from under it.

There are reasons I call him Bonehead. He threatens to steal them from me, my pillows. I have to keep a tight eye on them or they wind up mooshed beyond belief, sitting sideways and discarded inside their pillowcases. He has turned me into a giant pillow scrooge.

But I am home all day long while he is at work, and I can exact my revenge. Maybe they’ll be held for ransom. Maybe they’ll just be m.i.a. But whatever the case, whatever the revenge, he might find out sooner rather than later if he brings one. More. Pillow. Into our bed.

Evil laugh goes here.