I sincerely hope that that old pillow is not foam rubber. If not, at least you can throw the pillow into the washer every once in a while.
One of my brothers had a Gorbachev pillow until he got married. My SIL was wondering what the odd stink was coming from their bed. Turned out that the years of my brother’s accumulated head grease and drool reacted poorly with the foam rubber filling, which was crumbling apart and stinking. My dear brother of course never noticed. :rolleyes:
Washing a Gorbachev pillow actually does it damage.
I know this because there are currently five on my marital bed (four normal pillows and one triangle pillow) and I washed them for the first time in about four years a month or so ago. They went lumpy and still haven’t quite recovered. 
Beds are for sleepin’, not for fussin’. We’ve got the aforementioned Gorbachev pillows - two for him, two for me and the triangle pillow for me.
There’s a bottom sheet on the bed. He has a duvet that he sleeps in year round. I have three blankets that I add or remove depending on how hot/cold it is. That’s it. The bed never gets made and the sheets get washed if/when I remember.
Well of course he didn’t. It washis head grease and drool, after all. It just smelled like an extension of his head. Which, if you think about it, is the function of a pillow, right?
Holy crap. I posted, went to lunch, came back and this is already on page two. Gimme a sec to get caught up…
Thank you for the compliment. Dave Barry and Unca Cecil are my favorite writing influences.
Yes, I do have a 46" in my bedroom. Funded entirely by American Express Membership Rewards Point, else I’d have something more reasonable in there. This past weekend, I managed to convince the wifey that since I was going to spend $500 on a Blu-Ray player anyway, I might as well get Playstation 3.
So I’m getting my revenge for the pillow thing by playing Call of Duty 4 while she’s trying to sleep. Which is, of course, just fine.
[QUOTE=Yllaria]
I have three unfortunate suggestions. Well, two unfortunate ones and one that might be practical. I’ll start by suggesting (mostly in jest) that what you need is a puppy. It can lay on the bed, it’s cute, and they usually destroy at least a few pillows before being trained properly. [\QUOTE]
I confess I’d enjoy having a dog around. However, with a little human on the way, combined with my aversion to cleaning up feces, this is impractical.
I may try this, but it may backfire on me. She might like them, and then it would leave me no room for sleeping and/or playing Call of Duty 4 until 3 AM.
Regrettably, there’s no room at the foot of the bed for a chest. I’d like to have one, but our master bedroom is a bit on the small side.
Er, no. Mostly because he did actually wash his head at least once a day to get rid of the night’s head grease and drool. Plus I don’t think my SIL would have stuck around to become my SIL if his head did smell like the pillow at all times…
My bed has four pillows.
Two for resting of heads.
And two jammed in between the mattress and the footboard, because the mattress is slightly too short for the bed and I needed something to hold it in place.
And for the record, my mother has eleven, count 'em, eleven extra nonfunctional pillows on the bed in one of her guest rooms.
Nashiitashii and I have a pretty decent solution. We each have two pillows, one huge and one normal sized. She has two thin down comforters. I have a ceiling fan. One comforter and a sheet is usually good for most the year, the other when she gets cold, (I don’t use it mostly). If She insists too much, I fill the down up with farts, which it holds onto for weeks at a time; only to release them upon the unsuspecting.
We don’t make our bed. Our feline overlords prefer a nice unmade bed for their daytime naps. An unmade bed is so much nicer for curling up in, and smells more like their humans than a comforter or bedspread would.
We have some extra pillows, but they’re former bed pillows- we both like our pillows quite firm and fluffy, and pillows don’t stay at that level of firmness for that long. I think we have some shams somewhere (in the basement would be my guess), but I don’t think there are any actual pillows in them.
Normally, they’re hotel-style tucked in. I agree that this sucks. Which is why they do it in hotels.
First thing I do upon getting into bed is leg lifts to untuck the blankets. My feet - they yearn to breathe free.
I am so glad I am gay. No NFPs, no shams, no comforters. As mentioned above, king size bed, and the only thing that we share in common is the sheet that goes directly on the mattress. He has one of those foams mattress pad things,a sheet, and a couple of warm blankets and 4 pillows (all used) and I have just a sheet with an occasional blanket for on top when I get cold, with 2 pillows. No need to make the bed unless my mother is coming over.
Sometime, when she is away, go out and buy a race car bed frame.
God damn, I’m so glad I married a tomboy. We have shams, and the small corded pillows and a football pillow only because my mother bought us an entire set up for the bed while we were on our honeymoon as a surprise. The damned things stay in the closet until she comes over to visit.
I made the mistake of asking my mother what all the extra pillows were doing on her bed. (there were about six full sized ones)
Turns out the spares are the sex pillows.
I’m sorry I asked.
I don’t need all the extra pillows, but no one is taking away my 1000 tc egyptian cotton sheets.
This is awesome. And also why I’m very leery of asking my mother even the most innocuous of questions - one time, I asked her why she liked Kenny G so much, and she responded, “Listening to him is better than sex.”
Ain’t enough bleach in the world for that.
This entire situation could be solved if they made Shams that you could lay your head on, but I think that’s the point; if it’s useful then it isn’t decorative.
Nice vent, THespos. If I may, I’d like to add a brief, somewhat related rant of my own.
I’ve never been a very demanding sleeper. I spent my college years sleeping on a hand-me-down mattress on the floor, and I was content. The day I moved up to a futon (with frame, even! The cheapest in the store, but still…) I thought I’d graduated to the lap of luxury and would never again want for more. Twenty years later I would probably still be sleeping on the same crappy futon (with the stylish, if musty-smelling, metallic purple cover) but for the intercession of my wife—whom I love dearly, despite what I am about to say about her.
The futon was a non-starter; I didn’t object. So we got a new bed, with new mattress and box spring, all of which she picked out. A handful of months pass and she began to complain that the mattress was uncomfortable: too hard. And somehow the bed frame itself wasn’t elegant enough. So we purchased another (much more expensive) bed with a (softer, cushionier, and also more expensive) mattress and box spring, which of course she picked out herself.
This is the part where, even though you know what’s coming and that the Titanic is doomed to go down, you may find yourself irrationally hoping, as I do, for a different outcome—but no. The ship founders, Leo sinks, the dumb hag tosses the gem into the water, and goddamn if the new bed isn’t now “too soft.”
If my wife’s lovely face were ringed with golden curls, I might’ve been willing to pursue this tale to its obvious conclusion—but she’s a brunette, so I dragged the soft bed to the spare bedroom and dragged the old, hard bed back to ours. And as long as she never brings it up again, there is a non-zero chance we may live happily ever after. THE END
One day, I will discover why decisions regarding whether or not to keep something purchased can’t be made AT THE FRIGGIN’ STORE. Until then, I will assume that my wife will return roughly 60 percent of what she buys. (Slightly higher for clothes, slightly lower for furniture.)
Unless something was defective or somebody gave me a gift I already had, you would never catch me standing in line at the returns department when I was a bachelor. Now it’s a regular thing.
Looky. I just hijacked my own thread.