My boyfriend is a pirate.
After work yesterday, I picked up some groceries for our dinner and then stopped by my apartment to grab a few essentials: the contents of my make-up drawer, a bottle of Grey Goose, and my pillow. Oh, hello old friend. It was pretty warm in the afternoon, so by the time I’d struggled up the three flights of stairs to our apartment with my loot, I had sweaty strands of hair plastered to my face, a trickle running down my back, and red, welted rings on my arms where the grocery bags hung.The very moment I stepped through the front door, StepDog was at my knees, blundering around in his lampshade (he has a licking problem, okay?), cutting just close enough to send me pitching forward, make-up compacts and heads of romaine lettuce flying.
Don’t yell at the dog, I told myself. He doesn’t know.
I set my pillow down, giving it a place of honor on the end table, and took Lampshade out for his afternoon constitutional. Then I started dinner. An hour and a half later, after we’d polished off our plates, I scooted upstairs for a quick shower. If the climb up the stairs hadn’t undone me, a stupidly complicated meal over a hot stove and hotter oven finished the job. When I came down, fresh and clean and ready to finally relax with the DVR and Wednesday night’s episode of LOST, there was my sweet fella, done with kitchen duty, crashed out on the couch watching a basketball game, his noggin resting peacefully…on my pillow.
Commence meltdown in five, four, three…
Don’t yell at the boyfriend, I told myself. He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know that in this entire apartment, one average-in-every-way, polka dotted pillow is about the only thing that is mine. I mean, unless I wanted to curl up with my hair dryer or the wok, that was it. My pillow. Mine. He also doesn’t know that while he was at the Mavericks game the other night, and I sat at the apartment feeling misplaced and homesick (and silly for it), the only comfort I could think of was that damn pillow. Standing there, on the bottom stair, it took about three and a half seconds to degenerate into toddler mode.I felt like I was watching a sibling play with with one of my toys -and forget that there were heaps and heaps of toys in the toy box (and a bed full of pillows upstairs), Iwanted that one. Because it was mine. But instead of cracking him over the head with a Tonka truck – like I’d have had no problem doing in my actual toddler days – I put some cookies on to bake, and then cuddled up next to him on the sofa.
I won’t lie, I eyed that pillow like, the whole damn time.
But I said nothing. Because on the What’s Really Important Here scale, I chose to rank the Boy over the pillow. The Boy, whom I love, who tries so hard to make me happy (and yes, who would have given me the pillow without hesitation, had I given in to my petty inclinations), and who sleeps so soundly that if he tried that shit at night and crossed the imaginary line down the middle of the bed, there wouldn’t even be a pause his snoring when I yanked that pillow right out from under his pretty little pirate head.
Mine.
Cute blog, it really made me smile. I’m glad you are happy.
I’m like that with root beer in our house. I prefer to drink one a day and savor them like a fine wine. My husband pounds them two at a time, and whenever I see him with one of MY root beers in his hand, I just want to scream, ‘GET YOUR OWN CARBONATED HEAVEN, ASS!’
We have been married for almost 5 years. I don’t see me ever adjusting to this.
~ Katie
http://www.marriageconfessions.wordpress.com
You know, my brother and I never fought about toys, with each other or anyone else. If someone took something we stared for a minute and then turned to something else. I think it was because we had so very few toys we never learned to hoard. So the whole thing about the pillow was funny but I also relate to wanting to find your anchor when you are feeling misplaced. The feeling will go away and your pretty pirate I am sure would give up the pillow in a heartbeat if he knew you wanted it.
Btw, I am so jealous of your ability to come in laden with stuff, be mauled by a dog and then cook and bake cookies. I could never do that. Impressive!
http://venusreinvented.blogspot.com
I’m sorry, I don’t get why you didn’t just ask for the pillow.
Because I would rather let him have it. He was comfy and his day had been just as long as my day and because I love him more than the stupid pillow. I knew what I was feeling was petty.
Also, because had it been the reverse – my apartment, his pillow – he would never have said a word.
What a cute story and good for you! It’s hard to give up stuff and “compromise” and all of that for the sake of a relationship. I’ve been married for about a year and a half and there are still times I have to remind myself not to get upset over the little things that don’t matter so much.
LOL very cute post. I totally know where you are coming from with the pillow thing! I bought a pillow for me to sleep on at my boyfriend’s and somehow it has been claimed as “the good pillow” when in reality its MY good pillow. So, I am trying to drag him to Bed Bath & Beyond this weekend so that he can have a pillow as equally as “good” as mine. =)
My husband would so relate.
I don’t know when it happened (probably around the birth of one of our two daughters), but I have successfully pirated his childhood pillow for years now. I am not proud of this (the pillow is named “The Pal” — that’s how close they were), but I can’t sleep without it now.
Every now and again, he’ll snatch it away, bury his nose in the folds, and inhale deeply because it reminds him of when he was little.
Writing this, I can see just how wrong it is for me to be using The Pal every night. Must rethink the pillow sitch. Maybe a trip to Bed, Bath & Beyond for a replacement is in order?
Love your blog, Heather.
Aw sweetie!! You can always call me and vent – and then, in the greater scheme of things I can do my bestest to make you snarf over a kidnapped pillow. I’m glad the rest is going well though and you need to teach Hal anti-dog tricks
Aahhhh…. love!
The fiance tries to steal mine as well. It never goes over well. IT’S Mine as well. The sell them at the store everyday if he wants one like it though.
So, my husband eats everything in the house. I’m usually okay with it because when the cookies disappear that’s one less cookie going into my tummy. BUT every morning before work I have a whole wheat eggo waffle with a spoonful of PB on it. The first time I bought a box I told him that they were MINE and mine alone and he hasn’t even sniffed near them since.
I guess sometimes being a little bit selfish is a little bit okay…
Great post H!
3 flights of stairs though? Ya killin me Smalls! I was tired after imagining all of that. Then thinking that you will soon be having to lugg all of your belongings up said stairs….whew! Utterly exhausting!!
haha. Congratulations on your new happiness. It has made me smile these past weeks. : )
Ah. Love.
Too cute Fish. I love the What’s Really Important Here scale because it really wakes you up to how your love and relationship is maturing before your very eyes. Sounds like a keeper!
This is why I live alone – OK, alone with my dog. I don’t share well…..
LOVE THIS.
I moved in last week. The feeling of misplacedness and homesickness (despite having spent the vast majority of my time here already) is SO strange. Not to mention having no “escape” when we argue.
Would it be petty to label my special crackers I save for lunches when working at school? Would it??
I don’t share very well with others.
I have a smaller than average pillow that I love so much.
I also love this post – you are great!
I’m so relating to this right now…in the process of moving into HIS house and am missing MY things. The microwave is not a substitute for a teapot. I am patiently waiting to paint a room, or put up curtains, or hide the antlers…
Girl, you need more soft, furry, girly crap in that house. Pronto. If you lived further north, a nice blanky on the couch might do the trick. Got any stuffed animals? He would probably love that.
He was comfy but would have been just as comfy with another pillow. You would have been happier with that particular pillow. I’d hope he’d understand?
Sorry, but I don’t identify with martyr-syndrome.
Just a quick comment for you and the other girls that are moving in with your men. My husband and I had been dating for about 5 years when we moved in together, and I can say from experience that the first year of living together was sooooooooo much harder than our first year of marriage has been. So, when you’re having those hard moments of “adjusting,” just remember that it’s completely normal and it WILL get better. And it won’t be long before it becomes “home” to you.
Okay, that is the one and only bit of advice I will EVER give on your website.
Congrats again on your relationship…I’ve been reading for years now, and when you first started posting about this boy, I told my husband “I think he’s the one.” It sounds like you’re really happy, and I’m glad to see it.
Fish honey,
It’s okay to think like a girl. But, for a moment, think like a guy. If you were to bring him HIS pillow and just tell him how much you love your pillow, his response would be a mental shrug and a verbal okay.
This isn’t a matter of him vs. pillow. He won’t care, lol, and if he knew you were agonizing over it, he’d think… huh?
But it’s sweet to see how much thought and caring you are putting into this relationship
BTW, my ex had a brush he had since he was 16. It was The Brush. We kept it in one place in the bathroom and there was was a tacit understanding that it would never move from that place. Our kids also used The Brush. So, when we split and he was being an ass, it crossed my mind to take The Brush. I mean, there’s the house, the cars, and… The Brush. Heh, I didn’t. I mean, he may be an ass, but it’s his brush.
I can completely relate to the ‘my pillow’ arguement. When I moved in with my guy 6 months ago, my bed pillows came with me (they’re even in different colored pillowcases). Yet when I see him sleeping on MY pillows in the morning after I get out of bed or when he’s laying down after working out, I still hate him a little for it. He claims that the pillows belong to whomever is using them. The selfish part of me has translated his love for my pillows into a love for the smell of me even when he’s sleeping.
As other posters have mentioned, the food sharing is a big issue that I’m still working out. I can make a bag of Reese’s cups last 6 months. If they’re left in our house, my guy will devour them in two weeks (and he’s the one watching his calorie intake). We’ve finally realized that those snacks are going to have to be an immediate, ‘run to the corner store’ sort of treats when I want them. (Grumble, grumble.) I hope you and your guy don’t get to the food sharing conflict
That’s so sweet Fish. Your selflessness is inspiring when all I seem to be surrounded by are unhappy, self-centred individuals in relationships with other unhappy, self-centred people. I wish I had a Dork Lord to cuddle up to who would steal my pillow. If he came with a lampshade dog, that would be cool too
Tell me you are writing a book or a collection or something! For those that didn’t understand why she didn’t just ask for the pillow, isn’t it an obvious metaphor for all the adjusting cohabitation demands and a well written story about it that we can all relate to…no matter what the “pillow” is? Fish, you are a talented woman!
i’m with serial. i get not wanting to be petty, but i don’t get the false ‘have pillow after long day and dinner-making’ vs ‘fail/refuse to communicate needs, bake cookies’ dichotomy. i think a pillow-cookie trade would have served to assuage whatever guilt asking nicely for your prized possession would have created, but ultimately it’s probably a bigger deal that you’re feeling like the stranger in your house and haven’t talked about that with your loving boyfriend- that’s the stuff that truly ranks high on the What’s Really Important Here scale.
and true. you are a damn talented writer.
I love you Fish. This post explains exactly why you are so wonderful – a fleeting, almost unnoticable, uncomfortable emotion turned into poetry about the complex nature of relationships and love.
He probably just took it because it smelled like you.
This has nothing to do with the pillow pirate, but I saw a shirt over the weekend and thought of another post you wrote on Tom Sellic’ moustache. Check this out. I think you’ll be a fan.
http://www.thesmashsite.com/shop/product.php?shirt=mustache
enjoy.
You crack me up! I’m 38 and been married almost a year – after finally finding “the one”. He teases me all the time about my only-child selfishness and inability/unwillingness to share. Whenever I cross the line, all he has to say is…”Mine?” “Mine?”
I’ve commented a few times before, but just need to say again, your blog really does make me feel better. There will be periods where I don’t read it because life gets in the way, but on a day like today when I’m feeling really down (about a man of course!), it’s such a comforting feeling to keep reading your posts. Have followed all your ups and downs over the years, and all those days of brave singledom, and am so glad you are happily in love now!Gives us hope!
Not that the end all and be all of our existence should be a man,but sometimes it’s just…nice. So keep up the great work, Fish!
I’ve been in your shoes… twice, living with boyfriends. It gets easier. Life is simpler without all your stuff. Just put it in storage and you can live without it for quite awhile. DON’T GIVE AWAY YOUR STUFF! Just in case. You never know… I didn’t expect to break up with them either, but it happened twice before I married my 1st husband. He was the real mistake… that’s another story. I’m happily married now (since age 41) to the man of my dreams, really. It just took a long time to find my prince who some may think is a toad. I don’t care what they say… when you find true love you do know it. The problem is when they don’t feel the same way about you.
Hugs from Jodie… PS. Ask your mom about my hubby. Then you’ll understand.
A couple of people have pointed out that you’ve taken a martyr role in this scenario. That’s only half the issue. You’ve actually busted straight into passive-aggressive. I’m going to assume that your boyfriend knows and reads your blog. This whole post is nothing but a passive-aggressive means of trying to create boundaries. If I were your boyfriend and read this, I’d be a little pissed that you didn’t just ask for the pillow when you wanted it.
Oh, stop over-analyzing. One, he doesn’t read the blog. Not on any sort of regular basis. He gives me plenty of space to write what I want. Two, I’m not trying to create boundaries (jeez louise, you people and your amateur psychology). When I feel something is actually important enough to discuss, I bring it up. The pillow thing? Not important. Which was the point of the post. That and obviously what a sainted martyr I am.
I officially roll my eyes at you.
Do you want to know what is nice about being married for nearly a whole year?
It’s that all those times in the early days that I didn’t criticize him, all those times I (like you) thought about what was more important and chose not to whine like a toddler, they all paid off! I’m not saying, hide your true personality and maybe you’ll get a marriage proposal. I’m saying that you might spend the first year together struggling to stay nice and to be the selfless person. Then you get to spend the next rest of your life gently saying “sweetie? do you mind if I have the polka-dot pillow and you have this other one?” and he won’t mind at all because you’ve spent so much time making sure he knows you care. It will just keep getting better and better.