Pillow Talk

A code must be written somewhere, that gives women permission to over accessorize the bed without fear of recrimination. We all do it. And yet, it is that same permission that is our downfall.

There was a time when my bed was adorned with more than a half dozen pillows of every shape and size. So many, if fact, that they took up easily half the surface space of the bed. Now, there is no arguing that they looked fabulous...almost HGTV worthy...but, again, they caused a problem.

The problem was not mine. I loved the pillows. Their grace, color, texture...the implied luxury in their asymmetrical placement. The problem was my husband's. Or rather, the problem he had with the pillows.

I set a goal this summer to make the bed, EVERY DAY. Seems like such a small thing, when in reality it is one of those things that you have to make a priority...like brushing your teeth. Not the end of the world if you miss one or two days...but it was the challenge of the whole thing. Getting out of bed, at a reasonable time, and making the bed. So, in order to get the feeling of satisfaction in having completed my task and wanting to have something aesthetically pleasing to show for it, I added a few pillows.

The bed was made and looked “lovely.” Except now, my husband's problem became a focal point of our evening ritual. The bedtime routine was disrupted. No more could he simply jump into bed, roll over and start snoring. He had to deal with the pillows. There was no way he could simply throw them on the floor...oh no! He had no clue where to put them, that they would not be in the “wrong” place. So instead, he waited...pacing, looking around the room, much like a caged animal waiting to slip by the attendant. Finally, as sleep could not wait he asked, in a small, boy-like voice if I could take the pillows off the bed.

What? It can't wait until I'm done washing my face? Brushing my teeth? Slipping into my grannie nighty? What? Of course not. The caged animal would not be able to rest, until the bed was cleared of all unnecessary paraphernalia. That being said, I sauntered over to the bed, gave clear instructions as to the resting place of the four pillows, removed them, and watched as he dove between the sheets.

I giggled a little to myself, watching my husband and his dilemma. And I smiled, an evil sort of grin this morning, as once again I made the bed. I wonder if tonight he will attempt to “de-pillow” the bed on his own...he could always sleep in one of the other beds...oh wait – they have pillows too!