Yesterday while making the bed I noticed one of the pillows was in a sorry state of beint. “It’s had the course” as Father likes to say about something when said item is worn out and wants replacing. I put the lumpy cernuous thing aside and got out a new one. A pillow case was put on and I thought that’s that. Someone took the pillow and immediately asked what did I do with his pillow. I explained but this only worsened things. I was to retrieve said pillow and so no more. It’s back on the bed newly cased but no better. I’ve tried to reason it is hygienic to replace them once in a while, but to no avail.
People get awfully queer about their pillows. I am no exception. I like a pillow that is firm, holds it shape, and has no lumps (like my men). If they start to droop or lumpen I like to get a new one (the pillow, not the men).
In hotel rooms if I discover the pillows are of the soft persuasion I try to push a few together to make ‘one good one’. As a boy I sometimes saw airplane passengers traveling with a pillow from home, and thought them daft. I now know better.
I also like – nay, require – a pillow between my legs when I sleep. I sleep on my left side; if my knees contact each other they send a electrical current up my spinal cord to the brain to tell it not to go to sleep. So I require two pillows: one for the support of my head, and the other for separating my thighs. The later type of pillow is best if it is very long so I can hold the upper part in my arms.
Sometimes in summer if I am hot I sleep on top of the bed but this makes me feel exposed to the night monsters. A few pillows to cover me (in lieu of a sheet) suffices as armor without being hot.
I have a vague memory from my early youth of putting the pillow tip in my mouth. I am happy to report I no longer bite the pillow.