Pillows

In bed Tim uses the really nasty kind of English pillows: long, thin and filled with some strange synthetic material. I use the classic, Scandinavian style pillows – more square-shaped and filled we feathers. Occasionally we fight over the pillows (and trust me, I am not an evil person, but has offered to buy a pillow for Tim as well, but no, he just wants mine). Last night was one of those occasions. When I went to bed after Tim, he had stolen two of my pillows (I use three), and was holding on to them very hard.

– Can I have my pillows back, please?
– No!
– Alright, why not?
– Because Stevo and Wingnut don’t like you.
– Eh, what?
– Yeah, that’s their names. Stevo and Wingnut.
– No, I already had names for them.
– Yeah, sure. What then?
– Pillow one and pillow two.
– You see, that’s why they don’t like you. You treat them like robots. They don’t like to be diminished to numbers. They even have last names!
– Ok? What are they then?
– Eh, Stevo pillow and, er, eh, Wingnut pillow.
– So they are related?
– Yeah, they’re brothers. But different dads. That’s why they are different colours. [Yes, two different pillow cases.]

So, what does one reply to reasoning like that? I decided Tim could keep Stevo and Wingnut, but instead I stole Cinderella and Sandy, the two duvets…

We have such mature and intellectual conversations!