For Christmas, we usually do cash swaps with the sister-in-law and her family. Unbalanced of course and in my family's favor. This year the wife decides we'd use the money to buy some new pillows for the bed. The current ones were 12-year-old wedding gifts and long over-due for the trash man. "Wouldn't it be nice to have some new goosedowns?" She cajoled. "Sure honey," I think to myself although I'd prefer some new workout gloves or maybe that new Taebo kickboxing video. But pillows are cool. Long as we don't have to waste the money on some candles or potpourri, I'm fine. Although, I now recall that candles did make our shopping list that weekend.
Anyway, we set out to find some goosedowns. Our tastes differ on the question of softness. She likes big-firm (women, go figure). I like wide-cushy. We visit more than several stores before I completely break down insisting that we shop for a new digital camera, DVD player and some new tennis shoes for myself before we finish our pillow quest. That's a plan, so we do. We also decide it's probably best if she shop for our pillows on her own. Guess I'm not much the pillow kind of shopper.
She returns home with our pillows. $90, only two pillows. I'm not happy. I grew up sleeping on $8 pillows so I figure $90 should supply our whole neighborhood with something to sleep on. And I must be right 'cause the mother-in-law agreed. We return the pillows.
We set out on another pillow quest. Again, she wants big-firm. I want wide-cushy. Unable to reconcile, we decide to part ways. She gets big-firm, I get wide-cushy and they match like Venus and Mars. They don't.
Fast forward three months later. Wide-cushy makes my neck hurt. I now sleep big firm. Big firm makes her neck hurt, so she now sleeps wide-cushy.
P.S. And the son, well, he usually wakes up and climbs in our bed all squashed up somewhere in between the extremes.
Unrelated thought for the day: I agree with The Rev. Al Sharpton. If the language and violence in rap music can't be cleaned up, fine the Mutha F#@k*&s.