Pillow Thief

While I was at my conference last week, my wife decided to steal my pillows.  I came home to find them missing from their usual spot and located them nestled up on her side of the bed.  When I inquired about the alleged thievery that had taken place, she batted her eyelashes at me and simply said, “Baaabbbyyy, I was having trouble getting comfortable, and your pillow combination was perfect.  I have never slept so well.” 

Realizing that there was no way I could ask my pregnant wife for them back now, I asked, “Okay, and what am I supposed to do now?  I have no pillows.” 

She simply said, “There are some used ones in the closet, maybe you can get one of those.”

By “used” pillows, she means the broken-down-stuffing-has-been-equally-distributed-to-each-corner-of-the-pillow-no-longer-provides-any-support-whatsoever-probably-stinks-not-sure-why-we-even-kept-them pillows that have been banished to the top of the closet in cases of extreme emergencies.  And that is exactly where I now find myself…in a case of extreme emergency, constantly having to re-fluff and redistribute my used pillow into something that vaguely resembles a usable head and neck support, while failing miserably and waking up each day with a crick.

My pillow is so flat that I feel like I’m just sleeping on a pillow case.  My neck is situated at such a weird angle that I look like I’m trying to listen to my shoulder.  Which if it could take would probably be asking, “What happened to the other perfectly-fluffed pillow that you had that supported us all perfectly and kept your ear the exact right distance away from me?!”  Touche, talking shoulder…touche.