A Memory of the Pillow
Alas, as many of the citizens know, I was a bachelor until the sweet age of 32 and, while I'm devastatingly good looking, my experiences with women prior to my marriage were, well, essentially nonexistent. So imagine my shock and surprise as I had this encounter with the Queen.
We had been married a short time, perhaps a few months, and were living in the enclave of Kaysville, Utah in a multistory starter house with aluminum siding and a cookie-cutter garage. I was getting used to the idea of sleeping with a partner and found myself relatively comfortable on a queen-sized mattress with another soul (she's a dead sleeper and I've got sleep apnia, so we were a match made in heaven), but on this particular night, she was having trouble sleeping and I had got on her case to relax a little bit and quit shaking the bed.
Well, her problem stemmed from the fact that the heater had turned on and was blowing hot air out of the floor vents on my side of the bed. I had no problem tossing the sheets aside and sleeping on top of the bed, but she liked the covers and, with the heat on, she was roasting. She tossed and turned much to my chagrin, but eventually I succumbed to my exhaustion and passed out, asleep laying on my back. I was just about into a good little REM sleep when I heard the tiniest little shuffle at the foot of the bed.
I knew no one should be at the foot of the bed at that hour and I froze in fear. Still in a haze from my imminent sleep, I anxiously peeked out of one eye to see my wife gripping a pillow firmly in both hands heading to where I lay in a daze. I recall her trying to soothe me by saying, "Its all right, K. Everything will be all right."
Oh, great. I've been married all of three months and I've driven my wife so nuts that she is going to suffocate me in the middle of the night with her pillow. Way to go, Jones.
"Honey," I began tentatively. "You must know just how ominous this whole thing seems right now to me. I hope your not doing what I think your doing."
"No, honey," she replied quickly. "I'm just covering the vent. If I wanted to kill you, I'd poison your food. You're a fat guy. Give me some credit."
Wedded bliss.
We had been married a short time, perhaps a few months, and were living in the enclave of Kaysville, Utah in a multistory starter house with aluminum siding and a cookie-cutter garage. I was getting used to the idea of sleeping with a partner and found myself relatively comfortable on a queen-sized mattress with another soul (she's a dead sleeper and I've got sleep apnia, so we were a match made in heaven), but on this particular night, she was having trouble sleeping and I had got on her case to relax a little bit and quit shaking the bed.
Well, her problem stemmed from the fact that the heater had turned on and was blowing hot air out of the floor vents on my side of the bed. I had no problem tossing the sheets aside and sleeping on top of the bed, but she liked the covers and, with the heat on, she was roasting. She tossed and turned much to my chagrin, but eventually I succumbed to my exhaustion and passed out, asleep laying on my back. I was just about into a good little REM sleep when I heard the tiniest little shuffle at the foot of the bed.
I knew no one should be at the foot of the bed at that hour and I froze in fear. Still in a haze from my imminent sleep, I anxiously peeked out of one eye to see my wife gripping a pillow firmly in both hands heading to where I lay in a daze. I recall her trying to soothe me by saying, "Its all right, K. Everything will be all right."
Oh, great. I've been married all of three months and I've driven my wife so nuts that she is going to suffocate me in the middle of the night with her pillow. Way to go, Jones.
"Honey," I began tentatively. "You must know just how ominous this whole thing seems right now to me. I hope your not doing what I think your doing."
"No, honey," she replied quickly. "I'm just covering the vent. If I wanted to kill you, I'd poison your food. You're a fat guy. Give me some credit."
Wedded bliss.
posted by Cool Dad at Wednesday, August 03, 2005
8 Comments:
Once she was caught, what else did you expect her to say. The Queen, as I have explained prior, is one mixed up individual. She loves power, She is related to the Evil Half Wit. She has taken over the Kingdom for all practical purposes and you sit there relating story after story, thinking all of these incidents are just humorous little stories. O wake up King and put her in her place before it is too late. If you can't control the Queen, how on earth do you think to control Princess Touchdown, Bubba Indy, and Princess Syd.
LOL! I've been waiting for this story, you peaked my interest when you mentioned it in a comment.
I'd have feared for my life too!
Are you waiting for her to eat first, to see if the food is poisoned?
Better be careful, she may just be taking her sweet time before she knocks you off to claim complete control.
Long Live The Queen!
In our house, my husband is constantly complaining that I keep the bedroom too cold - I can't sleep if it's warm in the room - I like the AIR to be cool, and the bed to be warm - but, alas, he cannot use a pillow to block the a/c vent, as it's in the ceiling.
My husband would have believed me had we been in your places.
LMAO!! The queen rules and no way am I taking on the "food taster role" alongside that of minister for agriculture, fisheries and food! Enjoy eating this weekend Tom!! :o)
Ahhhh.. Appoint little Touchdown as the food taster and maybe the Queen will have to knock you off another way. How could she ever poison her precious Touchdown.
I'd still watch out for that pillow.
I LOVE this story. So funny I had to share it with my new husband. Thanks!
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