It was nearly 3 am, and I just wanted my pillow back.
My wife Danielle and I put a new duvet cover on our bed two nights ago. Before I had a wife I didn't know what a duvet cover was. Truth be told, when I lived by myself I didn't even use a cover. Or bed sheets. I slept on a bare mattress. My dinner was Macallan 12. I had a blue pleather couch. A lot of men reminisce fondly about their bachelor pads. Most of them are lying.
Living the way I do now is so much better.
Until the pillow incident.
After we made the bed, Danielle, a teacher, immediately went to sleep. I was wide awake. I suppose it made sense. Her day consisted of struggling to keep unruly children in line while preparing them for the real world. Mine consisted of avoiding writing by making an intricately layered sandwich and watching reruns of Full House. Hint: the tomato goes between the meats, not on top. Also, it was the episode where Michelle says her first word. Big day, I know.
An hour later I retired to bed. As I lay my head on the pillow, I immediately realized something wasn't right. Was there a problem with the new duvet cover? No, it was heavenly, like a cloud kissing my torso.
It turned out that Danielle was fast asleep... on my pillow.
That's my pillow.
A couple of months ago, before we were married, we were in Bed, Bath & Beyond. Because that's what you do when you're engaged. You go to Bed, Bath & Beyond a lot. Danielle mentioned we should get "nice" pillows. I never bought a pillow in my life. When I moved into my apartment in Manhattan, my parents gave me pillows. When I moved to LA, I lived on my sister's couch. She had spare pillows in her closet. Never in these instances did I inquire what kinds of pillows these were. Instead, I just made myself a sandwich. Tomato between the meats.
As we stood in Bed, Bath & Beyond, it turned out those pillows weren't good enough anymore. Now that I'm being told I'm an adult (mostly by Danielle, that is) it was time to get a pillow all on my own. One that made me happy. One of my choosing. I then remembered how much I enjoyed sleeping in hotels. And not just because I got a rush from stealing those mini shampoos. The pillows -- down feathered and fabulous -- were insanely comfortable. So I chose one of that nature. Danielle opted for a pillow that, to me, was like sleeping on a slab of cement. But hey, I'm not the one resting on it.
Until two night's ago, that is. And I needed to make the switch. I needed to get my pillow back.
Now, my lovely bride is a reasonable woman, despite the fact that she's gotten upset with me numerous times for talking during The Vampire Diaries. Whatever that is. So she probably would have understood my waking her up about the pillow. But I didn't want to wake her up. She looked so calm. So peaceful. Like a mannequin in a showroom. Hmm. Maybe I could pull it out from under her real fast, like those guys in magic shows with tablecloths. Who am I kidding? I can't even unzip my fly without grazing the skin a little.
I tried coughing. Perhaps if she woke up naturally she would realize it's the wrong pillow. I coughed. Nothing. I fake sneezed. All she did was turn on her side. I barked, in hopes it would get our dog to answer back. Danielle could then blame waking on her. It didn't work. But the bark did result in our dear sweet puppy licking my face for the next 45 minutes.
It was nearly 1 am. I didn't foresee any possibility of sleep.
Then it hit me. Maybe Danielle thinks her pillow's as awful as I do. She's just been too proud to admit it. Maybe this is the best slumber she's gotten in months.
I looked at the clock. Half past two. I let her lay there. She taught me what a duvet cover is. She's the reason I don't snooze on a bare mattress. She deserves a good night's sleep.
The next morning, Danielle recognized she spent the night on my pillow. I smiled, telling her I knew. That I didn't want to wake her.
Apparently I should have. Danielle's neck was completely out. She could barely move. Had to call in sick. And didn't understand why I couldn't have just woken her up to switch the pillows.
Later that day I brought her a sandwich in bed. I decided not to put the tomato between the meats. I learned my lesson.